
Book_. 



PRRSENTtn BY 



^o 










THE 



Changed Cross, 



Other Religious Poems, 



NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION. 



NEW-YORK : 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 

770 BROADWAY, 
Corner of Ninth Street. 

1866. 



PR \i<=?l 



Gift 

Rev. Edwin H.BookmvBr 
April lO, 1928 



The great favor which a part of the fol- 
lowing selections had met in the form of 
" Leaflets for Letters," induced the Publisher, 
some few years ago, to gather them in a vol- 
ume that has found a wide circulation. The 
present is a new and enlarged edition. As 
the poems are mainly waifs, gathered from 
magazines and newspapers, it has not been 
possible, except in a kw instances, to ascer- 
tain the names of the writers. 

New-York, March, l86?. 



The Ghanqed Cross, 

Other Religious Poems. 



IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, 
Althougli it knew and loved the better part, 
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, 
And all the needful discipline of life. 

And while I thought on these, as given to me — 
My trial tests of faith and love to be — 
It seemed as if I never could be sure 
That faithful to the end I should endure. 

And thus, no longer trusting to His might 
Who says, " We walk by faith, and not by sight," 
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, 
The thought arose — My cross I cannot bear : 

Far heavier its weight must surely be 
Than those of others which I daily see. 
Oh ! if I might another burden choose, 
Methinks T should not fear my crown to lose. 



6 THE CHAXGED CROSS. 

A solemn silence reigned on all around — 
E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound ; 
Tlie evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, 
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. 

A moment's pause — and then a heavenly light 
Beamed full upon my Avondering, raptured sight 
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, 
And angels' music thrilled the balmy air. 

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see — 
One to whom all the others bowed the knee- 
Came gently to me as I trembling lay. 
And, " Follow me ! " He said ; '' I am the Way." 

Then, speaking thus, He led me far above, 
And there, beneath a canopy of love. 
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen, 
Larger and smaller than my own had been. 

And one there was, most beauteous to behold, 
A little one, with jewels set in gold. 
Ah ! this, methought, I can with comfort wear, 
For it will be an easy one to bear : 

And so the little cross I (juickly took ; 
But, all at once, my frame beneath it shook. 
The sparkling jewels fair were they to see^ 
But far too heavy was their weight for me. 



TEE CHANGED CROSS. 



" This may not be," I cried, and looked again, 
To see if there was any here could ease my pain ; 
But, one by one, I passed them slowly by, 
Fill on a lovely one T cast my eye. 

Fair Mowers around its sculptured form entwined, 
And ^race and beauty seemed in it combined. 
AVondering, I gazed ; and still I wondered more 
To think so many should have passed it o'er. 

But oh ! that form so beautiful to see 
Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; 
Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair ! 
Sorrowing, I said : " This cross I may not bear.'* 

And so it was with each and all around — 
Not one to suit my need could there be found ; 
Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down. 
As my Guide gently said : " No cross, no crown !" 

At length, to Him I raised my saddened heart : 
He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart. 
" Be not afraid," He said, " but trust in me — 
My puri'ect love shall now be shown to thee." 

And then, with lightened eyes and willing feet, 
Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet, 
With forward footsteps, turning not aside, 
For fear some hidden evil might betide ; 



8 THE CBANOEB CROSS. 



And there — In the prepared, appointed way, 
Listening to hear, and ready to obey — 
A cross I quickly found of plainest form, 
With only Avords of love Inscribed thereon. 

With thankfulness I raised It from the rest, 
And joyfully acknowledged it the best — 
The only one of all the man}' there 
That I could feel was good for me to bear. 

And, while I thus my chosen one confessed, 
I saw a heavenly brightness on It rest ; 
And, as I bent, my burden to sustain, 
I recognized my own old cross again. 

But oh ! how different did It seem to be 
Now I had learned Its preclousness to see ! 
No longer could I unbelieving say, 
Perhaps another Is a better way. 

Ah no ! henceforth my own desire shall be, 
That He who knows me best should choose for me 
And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, 
ril trust It's best, because He knows the end. 



" For mj' thoughts are not your thoughts, saith the Lord."— 
Isaiah 50 : S. 

" For I know the thoughts that I think towards you— thoughts 
of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."— 
Jer. 29: 1. 

And when that happy time shall come, of endless peace and rest, 
We shall look back upon our path, and say : It was the best. 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 



THE MEETING-PLAGE. 

WHERE the faded flower shall freshen, 
Freshen never more to fade ; 
Where the shaded sky shall brighten, 

Brighten never more to shade ; 
Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; 

Where the star-beams cease to chill ; 
Where no tempest stirs the echoes 

Of the wood, or wave, or hill ; 
Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 

And the moon the joy prolong ; 
Where the daylight dies in fragrance 

'Mid the burst of holy song — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest. 

Where no shado^v shall bewilder ; 

Where life's vain parade is o'er ; 
Where the sleep of sin is broken. 

And the dreamer dreams no more ; 
Where the bond is never severed — 

Partings, claspings, sobs, and moan, 
Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 

Heavy noontide — all are done ; 
Wliere the child has found its mother, 

Where the mother finds the child: 



10 THE MEETING- PLACE. 



Where dear families are gathered 

That were scattered on the wild — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'JVIid the holy and the blest. 

Where the hidden wound Is healed ; 

Where the blighted light re-blooms ; 
Where the smitten heart the freshness 

Of its buoyant youth resumes; 
Where the love that here we lavish 

On the witliering leaves of time, 
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, 

In an ever spring-bright clime ; 
Where we find the joy of loving, 

As we never loved before ; 
Loving on unchilled, unhindered, 

Loving once and evermore — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'JVIid the holy and the blest. 

Where a blasted world shall brighten 

Underneath a bluer sphere, 
And a softer, gentler sunshine 

Shed its healing splendor here ; 
Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, 

Putting on their robe of green. 
And a purer, fairer Eden 

Be where only wastes have been ; 



THE PILGEUI. 11 



Where a King, in kingly glory 
Such as earth has never known, 

Shall assume the righteous sceptre, 

Claim and wear the heavenly crown — 

Brother, we shall meet and rest 

*Mid the holy and the blest. 



THE PILGRIM. 

STILL onward through this land of foes 
I pass in Pilgrim guise ; 
1 may not stop to seek repose ; 
Where cool the shadow lies 
I may not stoop amid the grass 

To pluck earth's fairest flowers, 
Nor by her springing fountains pass 
The sultry noontide liours ; 

^Tet flowers I wear upon my breast 

That no earth-garden knows — 
White lilies of immortal peace. 

And love's deep-tinted rose; 
And there the blue-eyed flowers of faith, 

And hope's bright buds of gold, 
As lone I tread the upward path, 

In richest hues unfold 



12 TEE PILGRIM. 

I keep my armor ever on, 

For foes beset my way ; 
I watch, lest passing on alone 

I fall a helpless prey. 
No earthly love have T — I lean 

Upon no mortal breast ; 
But my Beloved, though unseen, 

Walks near and gives me rest. 

Afar, around, I often see, 

Throughout this desert wide. 
His Pilgrims pressing on like me— 

They often pass my side : 
The kindly smile, the gentle word, 

For Jesus' sake I give ; 
But love — O Thou alone adored ! 

For Thee alone I live. 

Painful and dark the pathway seems 

To distant earthly eyes ; 
They only see the hedging thorns 

On either side that rise ; 
They can not know how soft between 

The flowers of love are strewn — 
The sunny ways, the pastures green, 

V^Hiere Jesus leads His oAvn ; 

They cannot see, as darkening clouds 
Behind the Pilorim close, 



HOLY TEARS. 13 

How far adown the western glade 

The golden glory flows ; 
They cannot hear 'mid earthly din 

The song to Pilgrims known, 
Still blending with the angels' hymn 

Around the wondrous throne. 

So I, Thy bounteous token-flowers 

Still on my bosom wear ; 
While me, the fleeting love-winged hours . 

To Thee still nearer bear ; 
So from my lips Thy song shall flow, 

My sweetest music be ; 
So on mine eyes the glory grow, 

Till aU is lost in Thee. 



HOLY TEARS. 

YES, thou may'st weep, for Jesus shed 
Such tears as those thou sheddest now, 
When, for the living or the dead. 
Sorrow lay heavy on his brow. 

He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame 
The weakness of thy flesh and heart ; 

Thy human nature is the same 
As that in which he took a part. 



14 HOLY TEARS. 



He knows its weakness, for lie felt 
The crushing power of pain and woe, 

How body, soul, and spirit melt 

And faint beneath'the stunning blow. 

What if poor sinners count thy grief 
The sign of an unchastened will ? 

He who can give thy soul relief, 

Knows that thou art submissive still. 

Turn thee to Him, to Him alone ; 

For all that our poor lips can say 
To soothe thee, broken-hearted one, 

"Would fail to comfort thee to-day. 

We will not speak to thee, but sit 
In prayerful silence by thy side : 

Grief has its ebbs and flows ; 'tis fit 
Our love should wait the ebbing^tide. 

Jesus Hjmself will comfort thee, 
In His own time, in His own way ; 

And haply more than " two or three" 
Urite in prayer for thee to-day. 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 15 



GOB OUR STRENGTH. 

MAN, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay 
Than fellow-men, the holiest and the best : 
And yet we turn to them from day to day, 
As if in them our spirits could find rest. 

Gently untwine our childish liands, that cling 
To such inadequate supports as these, 

And shelter us beneath Thy heavenly wing, 
Till we have learned to walk alone with ease. 

Help us, O Lord ! with patient love to bear 
Each other's faults, to suffer with tf ue meekness 

Help us each other's joys and griefs to share, 
But let us turn to Thee alone in weakness. 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 

CHRIST leads us through no darker rooms 
Than he went through before : 
He that into God's kingdom comes. 

Must enter by this door : 
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see, 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 
What will Thy glory be ! 



16 " MY TIMES ARE AY THY HAND:' 



Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary, sinful days ; 
And join with the triumphant saints. 

That sing Jehovah's praise : 
My knowledge of that life is small, 

The eye of faith is dim, 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 



^MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.'^ 

Psalm 31 : 15. 

FATHER, I know that all my life 
Is portioned out for me ; 
And the changes that are sure to come, 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask Thee for a present mind 
Intent on pleasing Thee. 

I ask Thee for a thankful love, 
Through constant watching wise, 

To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 
And to wipe the weeping eyes. 

And a heart at leisure from itself, 
To soothe and sympathize. 



**MY TIMEFi ARE TN TRY ffANT):' 17 



I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro, 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

Or secret thing to know ; 
I would be dealt with as a child, 

And o;uided where to cro. 

Wherever in the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts. 

To keep and cultivate ; 
And a work of holy love to do. 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

I ask Thee for the daily strength, 

To none that ask denied ; 
And a mind to blend with outward life, 

While keeping at Thy side ; 
Content to fill a little space, 

If Thou be glorified. 

And if some things I do not ask, 

In my cup of blessing be, 
I would have my spirit filled the more 

With grateful love to Thee — 
More careful than to serve Thee much, 

To please Thee perfectly. 

There are briers besetting every path. 
That call for patient care ; 



18 THE BORDERLANDS. 



There is a crook in every lot, 
And a need for earnest prayer ; 

But a lowly heart that leans on Thee, 
Is happy everywhere. 

In a service that Thy love appoints, 

There are no bonds for nie, 
For my secret heart is taught the truth 

That makes Thy children " free ;" 
And a life of self-renouncing love 

Is a life of liberty. 



THE BORDER-LANDS. 

FATHER, into Thy loving hands 
My feeble spirit I commit, 
While wandering in these Border-Lands, 
Until Thy voice shall summon it. 

Father, T would not dare to choose 
A longer life, an earlier death ; 

I know not what my soul might lose 
By shortened or protracted breath. 

These Border-Lands are calm and still, 
And solemn are their silent shades ; 

And my heart welcomes them, until 
The light of life's long evening fades. 



THE BORDER LANDS. 19 



I beard them spoken of with dread, 
As fearful and unquiet places ; 

Shades, where the hvino; and the dead 
Look sadly in each other's faces. 

But since Thy hand hath led me here, 
And I have seen the Border-Land ; 

Seen the dark river flowing near, 
Stood on its brink, as now I stand. 

There has been nothing to alarm 
My trembling soul ; how could I fear 

While thus encircled with Thine arm ? 
I never felt Thee half so near. 

Wliat should appal me in a place 

That brings me hourly nearer Thee '? 

When I may almost see Thy face — 
Surely 'tis here my soul would be. 

They say the waves are dark and deep, 
That faith has perished in the river ; 

They speak of death with fear, and weep 
Shall my soul perish ? Never ! never ! 

I know that Thou wilt never leave 
The soul that trembles while it clings 

To Thee : I know Thou wilt achieve 
Its passage on Thine outspread wings. 



20 ''ALL, ALL IS KKOWy TO THEEV' 

And since I first was brought so near 
The stream that flows to the Dead Sea, 

I think that it has grown more clear 
And shallow than it used to be. 

I can not see the golden gate 
Unfolding yet, to welcome me ; 

I can not yet anticipate 

The joy of heaven's jubilee ; 

But I will camly Avatch and pray 
Until I hear my Saviour's voice 

Calling my hai)py soul away, 
To see his glory, and rejoice. 



''ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO THEEr 

"When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then Thou 
knewest my path." 

MY God, whose gracious pity I may claim, 
Calling Thee Father — sweet, endearing 
name ! 
The sufferings of this weak and weary frame, 
All, all are known to Thee. 

From human eye 'tis better to conceal 
Much that I suffer, much I hourly feel ; 
But oh ! the thought does tranquillize and heal — 
All, all is known to Thee. 



''ALL, ALL IS KIIOWN TO THEE:' 21 



Each secret conflict with indwelling sin, 
Each sickening fear I ne'er the prize shall win, 
Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

When in the morning unrefreshed I wake, 
Or in the night but little sleep can take, 
This brief appeal submissively I make — 
All, all is known to Thee. 

Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned — ■ 
Each drop that fills my daily cup ; Thy hand 
Prescribes for ills none else can understand. 
All, all is known to Thee. 

The effectual means to cure what I deplore ; 
In me Thy longed-for likeness to restore ; 
Self to dethrone, never to govern more — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

And this 'continued feebleness, this state 
Which seems to unnerve and incapacitate, 
Will work the cure my hopes and prayers await- 
That can I leave to Thee. 

Nor will the bitter draught distasteful prove, 
When I recall the Son of Thy dear love ; 
The cup Thou wouldst not for our sakes remove — 
That cup He drank for me. 



22 OH! FOR TEE HAPPY DA YS GOXE BY. 



He drank it to the dregs — no drop remained 
Of wrath, for those whose cup of Avoe he drained 
Man ne'er can know what that sad cup container.?, 
All, all is known to Tliee. 

And welcome, precious^ can His Spirit make 
My little drop of suffering tor His sake. 
Father, the cup I drink, the path I take^ 
All, all is known to Thee. 



OH! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GOXE BY, 

OH ! for the happy days gone by. 
When love ran smooth and free ; 
Days Avhen my spirit so enjoyed 
More than earth's liberty ! 

Oh ! for the times when on my heart 

Long prayer had never palled. 
Times Avhen the ready thought of God 

Would come when it was called ! 

Then when I knelt to meditate, 
Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, 

Countless, and bright, and beautiful, 
Beyond my own control. 

Oh ! who hath locked those fountains up ? 
Those visions who hath staid ? 



OH! FOR THE HAPPY DA YS GOyE BY. 23 



What sudden act hath thus transformed 
My sunshine Into shade ? 

This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will, 

Dry as the desert sand — 
Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts 

That come without command — 

A faith that seems not faith, a hope 

That cares not for its aim — 
A love that none the hotter grows 

At Jesus' blessed name — 

The weariness of prayer, the mist 

O'er conscience overspread — 
The chill repugnance to frequent 

The feast of angels' bread : 

If this drear change be Thine, O Lord ! 

If it be Thy sweet will, 
Spare not, but to the very brim 

The bitter chalice fill ; 

But if it hath been sin of mine, 

Oh ! show that sin to me — 
Not to get back the sweetness lost, 

But to make peace with Thee. 

One thing alone, dear Lord, I dread — 
To have a secret spot 



24 OE! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BY, 



That separates my sonl from Thee, 
And yet to know it not. 

Oh ! when the tide of graces set 

So full upon my heart, 
I know, dear Lord, how faithlessly 

I did my little part. 

I know how well my heart hath earned 

A chastisement like this, 
In trifling many a grace away 

In self-complacent bliss. 

But if this weariness hath come 

A present from on high, 
Teach me. to find the hidden wealth 

That in its depths may lie ; 

So in this darkness I can learn 

To tremble and adore. 
To sound my own vile nothingness, 

And thus to love Thee more ; 

To love Thee, and yet not to think 

That I can love so much ; 
To have Thee with me. Lord ! all day 

Yet not to feel Thy touch. 

If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, 
Hire wliich Thy beauty showed, 



LOST TREASURES. 25 



Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught, 
And only as my God. 

Oh ! blessed be this darkness, then, 

This deep in which I lie ; 
And blessed be all things that teach 

God's dread supremacy ! 



LOST TREASURES. 

LET us be patient, God has taken from us 
The earthly treasures upon which we leaned; 
That from the fleeting things which lie around us, 
Our clinging hearts should be for ever weaned. 

They have passed from us — all our broad posses- 
sions : 
Ships, whose white sails flung wide past distant 
shores ; 
Lands, whose rich harvests smiled in the glad sun- 
shine ; 
Silver and gold, and all our hoarded stores. 

And, dearer far, the pleasant home where gathered 
Our loved and loving round the blazing hearth ; 

Where honored age on the soft cushions rested, 
And childhood played about in frolic mirth. 



26 LOST TREASURES. 



Where underneath the softened light bent kindly 
The mother's tender glance on daughters fair, 

And he on whom all leant with fond confiding, 
Rested contented from his daily care. 

All shipwrecked in one common desolation ! 

Tlie garden-walks by other feet are trod ; 
The clinging vines by other fingers tutored 

To fling their shadows o'er the grassy sod. 

While carking care and deep humiliation, 
In tears are mingled with their daily bread; 

And the rude blasts we never thought could reach 
us, 
Have spent their worst on each defenseless head. 

Let us be cheerful ! The same sky o'erarches — 
Soft rain falls on the evil and the good ; [ing 

On narrow walls, and through our humbler dwell 
God's glorious sunshine pours as rich a flood. 

Faith, hope, and love still in our hearts abiding, 
May bear their precious fruits in us the same ; 

And to the couch of suffering we may carry, 
If but the cup of water, in His name. 

Let us be thankful, if in this affliction 
No grave is opened for the loving heart ; 

And while we bend beneath our Father's chidingi 
We yet can mourn " each family apart." 



SUNDAY. 27 



^houlder to shoulder let us breast the torrent, 
With not one cold reproach nor angry look ; 

There are some seasons, when the heart is smitten, 
It can no whisper of unkindness brook. 

Our life is not in all these brief possessions; 

Our home is not in any pleasant spot : 
Pilgrims and strangers we must journey onward, 

Contented with the portion of our lot. 

These earthly walls must shortly be dismantled ; 

These earthly tents be struck by angel hands ; 
But to be built up on a sure foundation. 

There, where our Father's mansion ever stands 

There shall we meet, parent and child, and dearer 
That earthly love which makes half heaven of 
home ; 
There shall we find our treasures all awaiting, 
Where change and death and parting never 
come. 



S U N D A Y. 

"I WAS in the spirit on the Lord's day."— Rev. 1 : 10. 

A FTER long days of storms and showers, 
i\ Of sighing winds, and dripping bowers, 
How sweet, at morn, to ope our eyes 
On newly '• swept and garnished" skies 1 



28 SJrxDA Y. 



To miss the clouds, and d iving rain, 
And see that all is brii»;ht aorain — 
So bright we cannot choose but say, 
Is this the world of ye ^terday ? 

Even so, methinks, the Sunday brings 
A change o'er all familiar things ; 
A change — we know not whence it came— 
They are, and they are not, the same. 

There is a spell within, around. 
On eye and ear, on sight and sound ; 
And, loth or willing, they and we 
Must own this day a mystery. 

Sure all things wear a heavenly dress 
That sanctifies their loveliness. 
Types of that endless resting-day, 
When " we shall all be changed " as they. 

To-day our peaceful, ordered home 
Foreshadoweth mansions yet to come; 
We foretaste, in domestic love, 
The faultless charities above. 

And as at yester-eventide 
Our tasks and toys were laid aside ; 
Lo ! here our training for the day 
When we shall lay them down for aye. 



Sir^TDAY. 29 



But not alone for musings deep, 
Meek souls their " day of" days " will keep ; 
Yet other glorious things than these, 
The Christian in his Sabbath sees. 

His eyes, by faith, his Lord behold ; 
How on the week's first day of old 
From hell he rose, on Death he trod, 
Was seen of men, and went to God. 

And as we fondly pause to look 
Where in some daily-handled book, 
Approval's well-known tokens stand. 
Traced by some dear and thoughtful hand ; 

Even so there shines one day in seven, 
Bright with the special mark of Heaven, 
That we with love and praise may dwell 
On Him who loveth us so well. 

Whether in meditative walk, 
Alone with God and heaven we talk. 
Catching the simple chime that calls 
Our feet to some old church's walls ; 

Or passed witliin the church's door, 
Wliere poor are rich, and rich are poor, 
We say the prayers, and hear the word, 
Which there our fathers said and heard ; 



30 sr^^DA r. 



Or represent in solemn wise. 
Our all-prevailing sacrifice ; 
Feeding in joint communion high, 
The life of faith that cannot die. 

And surely, in a world like this, 
So rife with woe, so scant of bliss — - 
Where fondest hopes are oftenest crossed, 
And fondest hopes are severed most ; 

'Tis something that we kneel and pray 
AVith loved ones near and far away ; 
One God, one faith, one hope, one care, 
One form of words, one hour of prayer. 

'Tis just — yet pause, till ear and heart, 
In one brief silence, ere we part. 
Somewhat of that high strain have caught, 
• The peace of God which passeth thought." 

Then turn we to our earthly homes, 
Not doubting but that Jesus comes 
Breathing his peace on hall and hut 
At evening, when the doors are shut ; 

Then speeds us on our work-day way, 
And hallows every common day ; 
Without Him Sunday's self were dim, 
But all are bright, if spent icith Him. 



ONE BY ONE. 31 



ONE BY ONE. 

ONE by one the sands are flowing 
One by one the moments fall, 
Some are coming, some are going — 
Do not strive to grasp them all. 

One by one thy duties wait thee, 
Let thy whole strength go to eac!i ; 

Let no future dreams elate thee ; 

Learn thou first what those can teach 

One by one, (bright gifts from heaven,) 
Joys are sent thee here below ; 

Take them readily, when given — 
Ready, too, to let them go. 

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, 
Do not fear an armed band ; 

3ne will fade, while others greet thee, 
Shadows passing through the land. 

Do not look at life's long sorrow. 
See how small each moment's pain ; 

God will help thee for to-morrow — 
Every day begin again. 

Every hour that fleets so sloAvly, 
Has its task to do or bear; 



32 MARY'S CHOICE. 



Luminous the crown, and boly, 
If thou set each gem with care. 

Do not linger with regretting, 
Or for passion's hour despond; 

Nor, the daily toil forgetting, 
Look too eagerly beyond. 

Hours are golden links, God's token, 
Reaching heaven but; one by one; 

Take them, lest the chain be broken 
Ere the pilgrimage be done. 



MARTS CHOICE. 

JESUS, engrave it on my heart. 
That Thou the one thing needful art \ 
I could from all things parted be, 
But never, never, Lord, from Thee. 

Needful is Thy most precious blood, 
Needful is Thy correcting rod, 
Needful is Thy indulgent care, 
Needful Thy all-prevailing prayer. 

Needful Thy presence, dearest Lord, 
True peace and comfort to afford ; 



'^WEAUEB HQMEr 33 

Needful Thy promise to impart 
Fresh life and vigor to my heart. 

Needful art Thou to be my stay 
Through all life's dark and thorny way; 
Nor less in death Thou'lt needful be, 
To bring my spirit home to Thee. 

Then needful still, my God, my King, 
Thy name eternally Til sing ; 
Glory and praise be ever His — 
The " one tlilno; needful " Jesus is. 



''NEARER home:' 

ONE sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er : 
I'm nearer home to-day 

Than I ever have been before. 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be ; 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the jasper sea ; 

Nearer Uie bound of life, 

Where Ave lay our burdens down ; 



34 OE! TO BE BEADY. 



Nearer leaving the cross, 
Nearer wearing the crown. 

But lying darkly between, 

Winding doAvn through the night. 
Is the dim and unknown stream 

That leads at last to the light. 

Chjser, closer my steps 

Come to the dark abysm, 
Closer, death to my lips 

Presses the awful chrism. 

Saviour, perfect my trust, 

Strengthen the might of my faith, 
Let me feel as I would when I stand 

On the rock of the shore of death ; 

Feel as I would when my feet 
Are slipping over the brink ; 

For it may be I'm nearer home, 
Nearer now than I think. 



OH! TO BE READY. 

OH ! to be ready when death shall come, 
Oh ! to be read}' to hasten home ! 
No earthward clinging, no lingering gaze, 
No strife at parting, no sore amaze ; 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 



No chains to sever that earth hath twined, 
No spell to loosen that love would bind. 

No flitting shadows to dim the light 
Of the angel-pinions winged for flight ; 
No cloud-like phantoms to fling a gloom 
'Twixt heaven's bright portals and earth's dark 

tomb ; 
But sweetly, gently, to pass away 
From the world's dim twilight into day. 

To list the music of angel lyres, 
To catch the rapture of seraph fires, 
To lean in trust on the risen One, 
Till borne away to a fadeless throne. 
Oh ! to be ready when death shall come ! 
Oh ! to be ready to hasten home ! 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 

MY Dove ! in the clefts of the rock, in the secret of the 
stairs."— C A KT. 2 : 14. 



"M 



Y Dove !" The Bridegroom speaks. Tc 
whom ? 

AVliom, thlnk'st thou, meaneth He ? 
Say, O my soul ! canst thou presume 
He thus addrcpseth thee ? 



3 6 THE BE ID EG R OJf'S D VE. 



Yes, 'tis the BriJegrooni's voice of love, 
Calling thee, O my soul ! His Dove ! 

The Dove is gentle, mild, and meek : 

Deserve I, then, the name ? 
1 look within in vain to seek 

Aught v/hich can give a claim : 
Yet, made so by redeeming love. 
My soul, thou art the Bridegroom's Dove ! 

Methinks, my soul, that thou may'st see, 

In this endearing word, 
E.easons Avhy Jesus likens thee 

To this defenseless bird ; 
Reasons which show the Bridegroom's love 
To His poor helpless, timid Dove ! 

The Dove, of all the feathered tribe, 

Doth least of poAver possess : 
My soul, what better can describe 

Thine utter helplessness ? 
Yet courage take ! the Bridegroom's love 
Will keep, defend, protect His Dove ! 

The Dove hath neither claw nor sting, 

Nor weapon for the fight ; 
She owes her safety to her wing, 

Her victory to flight. 



TEE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 31 



A shelter liatli the Bridegroom's love 
Provided for his helpless Dove ! 

The Hawk comes on, in eager chase — 

The Dove will not resist ; 
In flying to her hiding-place, 

Her safety doth consist. 
The Bridegroom opes His arms of love, 
And in them folds His panting Dove ! 

Nothing the Dove can now molest, 
Safe from the fowler's snare ; 

The Bridegroom's bosom is her nest — 
Nothing can harm her there. 

Encircled by the arms of love, 

Almighty power protects the Dove ! 

As the poor Dove, before the Hawk, 

Quick to her refuge flies, 
So need I, in my daily walk. 

The wing which faith supplies. 
To bear me where the Bridegroom's lovi 
Places beyond all hanr His Dove ! 

My soul of native power bereft, 
To Calvary repairs : 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 



Immanuel is the rocku deft., 

" The secret, of the stairs ! " 
Since placed there by the Bridegroom's love, 
What evil can befall His Dove ? 

Though Sinai's thunder round her roars, 

Though Ebal's lightnings flash, 
Though heaven a fiery torrent pours. 

And riven mountains crash — 
Through all, the " still small voice " of love 
Whispers : " Be not afraid, my Dove ! " 

What though the heavens away may pass, 

With fervent heat dissolve ; 
And round the sun this earthly mass 

No longer shall revolve ! 
Behold a miracle of love ! 
The lion quakes, but not the Dove ! 

My soul, now hid within a rock, 

(The " Rock of Ages " called,; 
Amid the universal shock 

Is fearless, unappailed. 
A cleft therein, prepared by love. 
In safety hides the Bridegroom's Dove ! 

O happy Dove ! thus weak, thus safe : 
Do I resemble her ? 



GOB, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 39 

Then to my soul, O Lord ! vouchsafe 

A dove-like character ! 
Pure, harmless, gentle, full of love, 
Make me in spirit, Lord, a Dove ! 

O Thou, who on the Bridegroon^'s head 

Didst, as a Dove, come down. 
Within my soul Thy graces shed, 

Establish there Thy throne ; 
There shed abroad a Saviour's love, 
riiou holy, pure, and heavenly Dove ! 

S. R. JNl 



GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 
Psalm 43 : 4. 

EARLY my spirit turned 
From earthly things away, 
And agonized and yearned 

For the eternal day ; 
Dimly I saw, when but a boy, 
God, my exceeding joy. 

En days of fiercer flame. 

When passion urged me on, 

'Twas only bliss in name — 
The pleasm-e soon was gone. 



40 GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 



Compared with Thee, hoAv all things cloy, 
God, my exceeding joy ! 

At length the moment came — 

Jesus made known His love ; 
High shot the kindling flame 

To glories all above. 
Now all my powers one theme emploj 

God, my exceeding joy. 

Shadows came on apace ; 

Tears were a pensive shower ; 
I cried for timely grace 

To save me from the hour ; 
Thou gavest peace without alloy, 

God, my exceeding joy. 

One trial yet awaits, 

Gigantic at the close ; 
All that my spirit hates 

May then my peace oppose ; 
But God shall this last foe destroy, 

God, my exceeding joy. 



GOD'S SUPPORT AND GUIDANCE. 4.1 



OOD'S SUPPORT AND GUILANCE. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. 

FORSAKE me not, my God, 
Thou God of my salvation I 
Give me Thy light, to be 

My sure illumination. 
My soul to folly turns, 

Seeking she knows not what ; 
Oh ! lead her to thyself — 
My God, forsake me not ! 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

Take not Thy Spirit from me; 
And suffer not the might 

Of sin to overcome me. 
A father pitieth 

The children he begot ; 
My Father, pity me — 

My God, forsake me not. 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

Thou God of life and power, 
Enliven, strengthen me 

In every evil hour ; 
And when the sinful fire 

Within mv heart is hot. 



42 GOD'S SUPPORT A XV GUIDAKCh 



Be not Thou far from me — 
My God, forsake me not ! 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

Uphold me in my going, 
That evermore I may 

Please Thee in all well-doing, 
And that Thy will, O Lord ! 

May never be forgot. 
In all my works and ways — 

My God, forsake me not ! 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

I would be thine i'or ever ! 
Confirm me mightily 

In every right endeavor : 
And when my houi- is come. 

Cleansed from all stain and spot 
Of sin, receive my soul — 

My God, forsake me not ! 



AM. 43 



/ A M. 

" God calls himself I AM, leaving a blank which each soul 
may fill up with that which is most precious to himself." 

THOU bidd'st us call, and giv'st us many a 
name, 
Thax thou may'st hear and answer every cry ; 
But — for the wants of all are not the same — 
Another name Thy wondrous love did try ; 
To Moses first Thou gav'st it, and he knew 
Its worth, and taught us how to prize it, too : 
I AM — let every sinner kneel, and thank 
The Lord, and with his wants fill up the blank. 
Thy very wounds do say, each drop they bleed, 
" I AM thy need." 

Oh ! I am weary of this life. 

Of all its vanity and care ; 
Where can I hide me from its strife, 

From all its noises — where V 
My spirit sinks beneath the load, 
I pant to reach a safe abode. 
When shall I find a sweet release ? 
Remains there yet a lasting peace, 
A calm for my long storm-tost breast? 
" I AM thy rest." 



44 / AJf. 

Oil ! I am full of grievous sin, 
I can do naught that's right ; 

God ! how base my soul is in 
Thy pure and holy sight ! 

Thy perfect laws I daily, hourly break, 
And will not yield my will for Ihj sweet sake. 
Still in my soul do burn wicked desires. 
And my heart's altar bears unhallowed fires ; 

1 can do naught but all these things confess. 

" I AM thy righteousness." 

But, Lord, I am so weak, so weak, 

I cannot stand before Thy face ; 
Thy praises I can hardly speak. 

Hardly stretch forth my hands for gi^ace ; 
The way seems long, the burden who can bear ? 
Lord, must I sink beneath the load of care ? 
Thus is It now ; what shall it be at length ? 
" I AM thy strength." 

Lord, I must die ; e'en now the wing 

Of Thy dread angel hovereth nigh ; 
I know the message he doth brino; — 

" Soul, thou hast sinned, and thou must die." 
All nature feels and owns the just decree ; 
And Is this all that is in store for me — 
Ashes to ashes, dust to kindred dust, 
No hope, no light ? Surely my spirit must 



A LITTLE WHILE. 45 



Sink in despair ere nature's last, fierce strife — 
" I AM thy life." 

Oh ! wonderful Thou art ! 

Too wonderful for me is such great love. 
Shining in such a heart 

Like sunbeams from above. 
How rich am I ! yea, all things I possess — • 
Peace, joy, life, strength, and perfect righteous- 
ness. 
Jehovah shows Himself, and gives to me 
All my desire. Look, trembling soul ! and see 
On what a treasury thy want may call — 
» I AM thine all in all." 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

BEYOND the smiling and the weeping 
I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



^6 A LITTLE WHILE. 



Beyond the blooming and the fading 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the rising and the setting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the gathering and the strewing 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing. 
Beyond the coming and the going, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 
I shall be soon ; 



niXDER ME NOT. 47 



Beyond the farewell and the greeting, 
Beyond this pulse's fever beating, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but eome. 

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



HINDER ME NOT. 

HINDER me not ! the path is long and weary, 
I may not pause nor tarry by the way ; 
Night Cometh, when no man may journey o'nward, 
For Ave must Avalk as children of the day. 

I know the city lieth fair behind me. 

The very brightest gem that studs the plain 
■St But thick and fast the lurid clouds are rising, 
Which soon shall scatter into fierv rain. 



48 HINDER ME NOT. 



I must press on until I reach my Zoar, 

"And there find refuge from the fearful blast ; 

In Thy cleft side, O smitten Saviour ! hide me, 
Till the calamity be overjoast. 

Ye cannot tempt me back with pomp or })leasure ; 

All, in my eager grasp, have turned to dust. 
The shield of love around my hearth is broken ; 

How shall I place on man's frail Hfe my trust V 

But my heart lingers when I pass the dwellings 
Where children play about the open door ; 

And pleasant voices waken up the echoes, 
From silent lips of those I see no more. 

For through their chambers swept the solemn 
warning, 
Arise ! depart ! for this is not your rest ; 
They folded their pale hands and sought the pres- 
ence — 
I only bore the arrow in my breast. 

But there is balm in Gilead, and a Healer 

Whose sovereign power can cure our every ill ; 

And to the soul, more wildly tempest-tossing 
Than ever Galilee, say : " Peace, be still !" 

Who, shoAving His own name thereon engraven, 
With blccdinir hands will draw the dart airain, 



fflKDER ME ¥0T. 49 



And whisper : " Should the true disciple murmur 
To taste the cup his Master's lip could drain V" 

And then lead on, until we reach the river 

\Vhich all must cross, and some must cross 
alone ; 

Oh ! ye who in the land of peace are wearied, 
How shall ye breast the Jordan's swelling moan ? 

[ know not if the wave shall rage or slumber, 
When I shall stand upon the nearer shore ; 

But one whose form the Son of God resembleth, 
Will cross with me, and I shall ask no more. 

O weary heads ! rest on your Saviour's bosom. 

O weary feet ! press on the path He trod. 
O weary souls ! your rest shall be remaining. 

When ye have gained the city of your God. 

O glorious city ! jasper built, and shining 
With God's own glory in effulgent light, 

Wherein no manner of defilement cometh, 
Nor any shadow flung from passing night. 

There shall ye pluck fruits from that tree immortal, 
And be like gods, but find no curse therein. 

There shall ye slake your thirst in that full fount- 
ain [sin. 
Whose distant streams sufficed to aleanse your 



50 "/ CLING TO THEE? 



There shall ye find your dead In Christ arisen, 
And learn from them to sing the angels' song ; 

Well may ye echo from earth's waiting prison, 
The martyr's cry : " How long, O Lord ! how 
lone !" 



"/ CLING TO TEEEy 

OHOLY Saviom-, Friend unseen ! 
Since on Thine arm thou bidst me lean, 
Help me, tlirough life's varying scene, 
By faith I cling to Thee. 

Blest with this fellowship divine, 
Take Avhat Thou wilt, I'll ne'er repine : 
E'en as the branches to the vine. 

My soul would cling to Thee. 

Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed, 
Here has she found her place of rest, 
An exile still, yet not unblessed, 

While she can cling to Thee. 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove 
With patient uncomplaining love. 
Still would I cling: to Thee. 



AL02^E, YET I^OT ALONE:' 51 



Though faith and hope may long be tried, 
I ask not, need not aught beside ; 
How safe, how cahn, how satisfied. 
The soul that clings to Thee ! 

They fear not Satan, nor the grave ; 
They feel Thee near, and strong to save ; 
Nor dread to cross e'en Jordan's wave, 
Because they cling to Thee. 

Blest is my lot— whate'er befall ; 
What can disturb me— who appall ? 
While, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
Saviour ! I cling to Thee. 



''ALONE, YET NOT ALONEy 

WHEN no kind earthly friend is near, 
With gentle words my heart to cheer, 
Still am I with my Saviour dear : 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

Though no loved forms my path attend, 
With tender looks o'er me to bend, 
Yet am I with my unseen Friend : 
" Alone, yet not alone." 

^Vhen sorely racked with pain and grief, 
Here I can find a sure relief; 



52 THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERIl^Q. 



And I rejoice in the belief: 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

'Tis on His strength that I rely, 
And doubts and fears at once defy, 
So happy, so content am I, 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

E'en when with friends my lot is cast. 
And words of love are flowing fast. 
Still am I, when those hours are past, 
" Alone, yet not alone." 

If all my earthly friends remove, 
My fondest wishes empty prove. 
Still am I with my Saviour's love 
" Alone, yet not alone. 

Whate'er may now to me betide, 
I have a place wherein to hide 
By faith ; 'tis e'en at His blest side : 
" Alone, yet not alone." 



THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING, 

SAVIOUR, beneath Thy yoke , 
My wayward heart doth pine ; 
All unaccustomed to the stroke 
Of love divine : 



THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 53 



Thy chastisements, my God, are hard to b(iar, 
Thy cross is heavy tor frail flesh to wear. 

'' Perishing chihl of cLay ! 

Thy sighing I have heard ; 
Long have I marked thy evil way, 
How thou hast erred ! 
Yet fear not, by my own most holy name 
I will shed healing through thy sin-sick frame ' 

Praise to Thee, gracious Lord \ 

I fain would be at rest ; 
Oh ! now fulfil Thy faithful word 
And make me blest ; 
My soul would lay her heavy burden down, 
And take, with joy fulness, the promised crown. 

" St:\y, thou short-sighted child ! 
There is much first to do, 
'Thy heart, so long by sin defiled, 
1 must renew ; 
Thy will must here be taught to bend to mine, 
Or the sweet peace of heaven can ne'er be thine 

Yea, Lord, but Thou canst soon 

Perfect Thy work in me, 
Till, like the pure, calm summer noon 

1 shine bv Thee ; 



54 THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 



A moment sliine, that all Thy power may trace, 
Then pass in stilhiess to my heavenly place. 

" Ah ! coward soul, confess 

Thou shrinkest from my cure, 
Thou tremblest at the sharp distres. 
Thou must endure, 
The foes on every hand for war arrayed, 
The thorny path in tribulation laid ; 

" The process slow of years, 
The discipline of life ; 
Of outward woes and secret tears, 
Sickness and strife ; 
Thine idols taken from thee one by one, 
Till thou canst dare to Hve with me alone. 

" Some gentle souls there are, 
Who yield unto my love. 
Who, ripening fast beneath my care, 
I soon remove ; 
But thou stiff-necked art, and hard to rule ; 
Thou must stay longer in affliction's school/' 

My Maker and my King ! 
Is this Thy love to me ? 
Oh ! that I had the lightning's wing, 
From earth to flee ; 



THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 55 

How can I bear the heavy weight of woes 
Thiiift indignation on the creature throws ? 

" Thou canst not, O my chlkl ! 
So hear my voice again ; 
I will bear all thy anguish wild, 
Thy grief, thy pain ; 
My arms shall be around thee, day by day. 
My smile shall cheer thee on thy heavenward way. 

" In sickness, I will be 

Watching beside thy bed, 
In sorrow thou shalt lean on m-e 
Thy aching head ; 
In every struggle thou shilt coutiueror prove, 
Nor death itself shaU sever froui my love." 

O grace beyond compare ! 

love most high and pure ! 
Saviour, begin, no longer spare, 

1 can endure ; 

Only vouchsafe Thy grace, that I may Uve 
Unto Thy glory who canst so forgive. 



66 THE PILGBUrS WANTS. 



THE PILGRUrS WANTS. 

I WANT that adorning divine, 
Thou, only, my God, canst bestow ; 
I want in those beautiful garments to shine. 
Which distinguish Thy household below. 

Col 3:12-17. 

I v/ant, oh ! I want to attain 

Some likeness, my Saviour, to Thee : 

Tliat longed-for resemblance once more to regain, 
Thy comeHness put upon me. 

1 John 3 : 2, 3. 

I want to be marked for Thy own ; 

Thy seal on my forehead to wear ; 
To receive that " new name" on the mystic white 

stone, 
Which only Thyself canst declare. 

Rev. 2:17. 

I want, every moment, to feel 

That the Spirit does dwell in my heart ; 
That His power is present to cleanse and to heal, 

And newness of life to impart. 

Rom. 8:11-16. 

I want so in Thee to abide, 

As to bring forth some fruit to Thy praise ; 



THE PILOBUrS WAJsTS. 57 



The branch that Thou prunest, though feeble and 
dried, 
May languish, but never decays. 

John 15 : 2-5. 

I want Thine own hand to unbind 

Each tie to terrestrial things. 
Too tenderly cherished, too closely entwined, 

Where my heart too tenaciously clings. 

1 John 2 : 15 

I want, by my aspect serene. 

My actions and words, to declare 
That my treasure is placed in a country unseen, 

That my heart and affections are there. 

Matt. 6:19-21. 

I want, as a traveller, to haste 

Straight onward, nor pause on my way ; 
No forethought or anxious contrivance to Avaste 

On my tent, only pitched for a day. 

Heb. 13:5, 6 

want (and this sums up my prayer) 
To glorify Thee till I die ; 
Then calmly to yield up my soul to Thy care, 
And breathe out in prayer my last sigh. 

PhU. 3 : 8, 9. 



58 HE A YEN. 



HE A V EN.' 

OH ! heaven is nearer than mortals think, 
When they look with a trembling dread 
At the misty future that stretches on, 
From the silent home of the dead. 

Tis no lone isle on a boundless main, 

No brilliant but distant shore. 
Where the lovely ones who are called away 

Must go to return no more. 

No, heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 

Of mortality blinds the eye. 
That we cannot see the angel bands, 

On the shores of eternity. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour 

Will open the next in bliss ; 
The welcome will sound in the heavenly Avoi-ld, 

Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 
To the arms of the loved and lost. 

And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
Which on earth we have valued most. 

Yet oft in the hours of holy thought, 
To the thirsting soul is o'lven 



A VOICE FROM REAVE .V. 



59 



That power to pierce throusli the mist of sense, 
To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 

Then very near seem its pearly gates, 

And sweetly its harpings fall ; 
Till the soul is restless to soar away, 

And longs for the angel's call 

1 know when the silver cord is loosed. 

When the veil is rent away, 
Not long and dark shall the passage be, 

To the realms of endless day. 



A VOICE FROM HEAVEN- 

t SHINE in the light of God, 
His image stamps my brow ; 
Through the shadows of Death my feet have trod, 

And I reign in glory now. 
No breaking heart is here, 

No keen and thrilling pain, 
No wasted cheek, where the burning tear 
Hath rolled, and left its stain. 

1 have found the joys of heaven, 

I am one of the angel band ; 
To my head a crown is given, 

And a harp is in my hand ; 



60 A VOICE FE03f HEAVEN. 



I have learned the song they sing, 

Whom Jesus hath made free, 
And the glorious walls of heaven still ring 

AVith my new-born melody. 

No sin, no grief, no pain — 

Safe in my happy home : 
My fears all fled, my doubts all slain, 

My hour of triumph come ; 
O friends of my mortal years ! 

The trusted and the true, 
You're walking still the vale of tears, 

But I wait to welcome you. 

Do I foro;et ? Oh ! no, 

For memory's golden chain 
Shall bind my heart to the hearts below, 

Till they meet and touch again ; 
Each Hnk is strong and bright, 

While love's electric flame 
Flows freely down, like a river of light, 

To the world from whence I came. 

I)o you mourn when another star 
Shines out from the glorious sky ? 

Do you weep when the voice of war 
And the raoe of conflict die ? 



SUPPLICATION. 



61 



Wli)' then should your tears roll down, 
Or your heart be sorely riven, 

For another gem in the Saviour s crown, 
And another soul in heaven ? 



SUPPLICATION. 

LORD, hear my prayer ! 
Turn not Thine ear from my distress, 
But with Thy loving mercy bless, 
Lest I despau- 

Be gracious. Lord ! 
My soul is oft opprest and weak ; 
Oh ! aid me when I comfort seek 

In Thy blest word. 

My footsteps stray ; 
I wander often from the road 
That leads to peace and Thee my God; 

Teach Thou the way. 

Oh ! make me pure, 
Clothe Thou my soul in spotless white, 
That my acceptance in Thy sight, 

Be always sure 

Let me be one 
Of all the sinless company 



62 



EVENING PRAYER. 



That round Thy throne hosannahs sing, 
Through Christ Thy Son. 

Thy will be done 
On earth, as by each holy one, 
Thy own redeemed, who near thy throne, 

Bow down the knee ! R ^x. 



EVENING PRAYER. 

FATHER of mercy ! at the close of day, 
My work and duties done, to Thee I pray 
Before I sleep ; 
AVith clasped hands I humbly bow my head, 
And ask Thee, Lord, ere I retire to bed, 
My soul to keep. 

The sins and failings of the day now past. 
The shadows on my soul that they have cast, 

Do Thou forgive ; 
Oh ! purge my life from every taint of sin. 
That I within Thy courts may enter in, 

With Thee to live. 

Whatever sorrow I this day have known, 

I spread it now, O Lord ! before Thy throne — 

Oh ! succor send ; 
I would beneath Thy chastening hand be still, 



THE WANDER [Na HEART. 68 



And meekly bow before Thy sovere%n will, 
Unto the end. 

And now, with folded hand upon my breast, 
At peace with Thee, I lay me down to rest 

V Upon my bed ; 
JNlay angels guard me through the darksome night, 
From troubled dreams, until the morning light 

Its beams shall shed. R n. 



THE WANDERING HEART. 

ALAS ! for the wildly wandering heart, 
And it» changing idol guests ! 
It has roamed away to the world's far ends, 

At the vagrant wind's behests. 
More lleet in its course than tlie flying dart. 
Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

Go, bind it with Memory's holiest spells, 
But it recks not the things of old ; 

Go, chain it in Gratitude's surest cells. 
With fetters more j)recious than gold ; 

Yet ever, oh ! ever, it will depart — 
Alas ! for the wanderinix heart. 



64 THE WAXDERIITG HEART. 



Is it gone up to listen at heaven's gate, 

To Gabriel's lyre of praise ? 
And to catcli the deep chanting Avhere seraphs 

As a lesson for its mortal lays ? [wait, 

O no ! for it loves from such lessons to part. 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It loves on a worthless and treacherous world 

To bestow its high desires ; 
And the lamp which it ought to be lighting in 

It kindles at idol fires. [heaven, 

Full seldom it turns to its guiding chart — 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It needs to be steeped in the briny wave 

Of affliction's billowy sea, 
And salt tears must water its way %) the grave, 

Ere it will from these vanities flee. 
It must ever be feeling the chastening smart — 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

My Father ! my Father ! this heart would be thine ! 

Restore from its wanderings ; 
Oh ! visit and nourish thy wilderness vine, 

Though it be from the bitter springs : 
Till the years of its pruning in time shall be o'er, 
And its shoots in eternity wander no more ! 



BETUBK THEE TO THY BEST:' 65 



^'RETURN THEE TO THY REST:' 

RETURN, return thee to thine only rest, 
Lone pilgrim of the Avorld ! 
Far erring from the fold — 
By the dark night and risen storms distressed : 
List, weary lamb, the Shepherd's anxious voice, 
And once again within His arms rejoice. 

Return, return, thy fair white fleece is soiled 

And by sharp briers rent — 

Thy little strength is spent ; 
Yet He will pity thee, thou torn and spoiled. 
There, thou art cradled on His tender breast ; 
Now never more, sweet lamb, forsake that rest. 

Return, return, my soul ; be like this lamb ; 

Yet can it, can it be 

That thou should'st pardon me, 
TliOu injured love ! all ingrate as 1 am ; 
(Jure again, Avenry of earth's trifling things, 
False as the desert's far and shining springs ? 

Return, return to thy forsaken Friend, 

So long despised, forgot — 
That now, thou Avandering heart, 'tAvere just 

If He should " knoAv thee not :" 



66 NEAli JESUS. 



Yet on, press on, ''owards the mercy-seat, 
And if thou perish, perish at His feet. 

Return, return, for He is near thee dwelling, 

And not into the :^ir 

Need rise the sighs of prayer ; 
Into His ear thou rt all thy sorrows telllni»- ; 
Thou need'st not speak to Ilini through spaces wide, 
For He is near thee, even at thy side. 

" Him have I pierced " — oh ! I come, I coine ; 

My heart is brojicr^, Lord, 

It needs nor voice nor word ; 
One only look brought Peter back of yore ; 
How bitterly I w*^ep as then he wept ! 
Elenceforth, oh ! keep me, and I shall be kept. • 



NEAR JESUS. 

I WANT to live near Jesus, 
And nc"5^er go astray, 
Tc feel that I am grooving 

More like Him every day ; 
That I am always la}'ing 
My treasure up above. 
And gaiiiii.^ more the spirit 
Of His y-ciitiemr^s aiitl I)ve, 



NEAR JESUS. 

I want such steadfast purpose 

My mission to fulfil, 
That it may be my meat and drink, 

To do my Father's will, 
To follow in His footsteps, 

Who never turned aside 
From the path that leads to heaven, 

Though often sorely tried. 

Oh ! that in His humility 

My spu-it may be clad ! 
That I may have the patience 

My sutfering Saviour had, 
A heart more disengaged 

From earth and earthly things, 
A¥hich through life's varied trials 

To Jesus simply clings. 

Oh ! I shall live near Jesus, 

And never go astray. 
And every sin-defiling stain 

Shall soon be washed away ; 
And I'll bear my Master's image 

When I see Him face to face, 
Then earth shall lose the power 

Its l)ri<2;htness to deface. 



68 WHO IS MY BROTHER? 



WHO IS MY BROTHER? 

MUST I my brother keep, 
And share his pains and toil, 
And weep with those that weep, 

And smile with those that smile ; 
And act to each a brother's part, 
And feel his sorrows in my heart ? 

Must I his burden bear 

As though it were my own, 

And do as I would care 
Should to myself be done ; 

And faithfid to his interests prove. 

And as myself my neighbor leave ? 

Must I reprove his sin. 

Must I partake his grief, 
And kindly enter in 

And minister relief — 
The naked clothe, the hungry feed. 
And love him, not in word, but deed ? 

Then, Jesus, at Thy feet 

A student let me be, 
And learn, as it is meet, 

My duty, Lord, of Thee ; 
For Thou didst come on mercy's plan, 
And all Thy life was love to man. 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 



Oh ! make me as Thou art, 
Thy Spirit, ]^ord, bestow — 

The kind and gentle heart, 
That feels another's woe ; 

That thus I may be like my Head, 

And in my Saviour's footsteps tread. 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 

PILGRIM of earth, who art journeying to 
heaven ! 
Heir of Eternal Life ! child of the day ! 
Cared for, watched over, beloved and forgiven — 
Art thou discouraged because of the way ? 

Cared for, watched over, though often Thou seemest 
Justly forsaken, nor counted a child ; 

Loved and forgiven, though rightly Thou deemest 
Thyself all unlovely, impure, and defiled. 

Weary and thirsty — no Avater-brook near thee, 
Press on, nor faint at the length of the way ; 

The God of thy life will assuredly hear thee — 
He will provide thee strength for the day. 

Break through the brambles and briers that ob- 
struct thee. 
Dread n ^t the gloom and the blackness of night, 



70 PILGBIM OF EARTH. 

Lean on the band that "will safely conduct thee, 
Trust to His eye to whom darkness is light. 

Be trustful, be steoUfast, whatever betide thee, 
Only one thing do thou ask of the Lord — 

Grace to go forward wherever He guide thee, 
Simply believing the truth of His word. 

Still on thy spirit deep anguish is pressing, 
Not for the yoke that His Avisdom bestows : 

A heavier burden thy soul is distressing, 
A heart that is sIoav in His love to repose. 

Earthliness, coldness, unthankful behavior — 
Ah ! thou may est sorrow, but do not despair ; 

Even this grief thou ma}'est bring to thy Saviour; 
Cast upon Him e'en this burden and care ! 

Bring all tliy hardness — His power can subdue it ; 

How full is the promise ! The blessing how free ! 
' Whatsoever ye ask, in my name, I will do it. 

Abide in ray love, and be joj'ful in me." 



A LITTLE WHILE. 71 



" WRA T IS THIS THA T hZ SAITH : A LIT- 
TLE WHILE r 

John 16 : 18. 

On ! for the peace which floweth as a river, 
iSIaking Life's desert-putc-s bloom and smile. 
Oh ! ibr a faith to grasp heaven's bright " for ever," 
Amid the shadows of Earth's "little while." 

" A little while " for patient vigll-keeping, 
To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong ; 

« A little while " to sow the seed with weeping. 
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest-song. 

» A little while " to wear the robe of sadness. 
To toil with weary step through erring ways; 

Then to pour forth the fragr^n^ oil of gladness, 
And clasp the girdle of the robe of praise. 

" A little while " 'mid shadow and illusion 
To strive by faith Love's mycteries to spell ; 

Then read each dark enigma's clear solution, 
Then hail Light's verdict—" He doth all things 
well." 

" A little while" the earthe-> pitcher taking 
To wayside brooks from far-otf fountains fed; 

Then the parched lip its thii^t for ever slaking 
Beside the fulness of the Fountain Head. 



72 /^ HE A VEX. 



" A little while " to keep the oil from failing ; 

" A little Avhile " Faith's flickering lamp to trim 
And then, the Bridegroom's coming footstep hailinj.? 

To haste to meet Him with the bridal h\ inn. 

And He who is at once both Gift and Giver, 
Tlie future Glory, and the present smile. 

With the bright promise of the glad " for ever," 
Will liirht the shadows of the " little while." 



IN heaven: 

"Their angels do always behold the face of my Father.' 

SILENCE filled the courts of heaven, 
Hushed were seraphs' harp and tone, 
AVhen a little new-born seraph 

Knelt before the Eternal Throne ; 
AATiile its soft Avhite hands were lifted, 

Clasped, as if in earnest prayer. 
And its voice, in dove-like murmurs, 

Rose Tike music on the ear. 
Light from the full fount of Glory 

On his robes of whiteness glistened. 
And the bright-winged seraphs near Him 

Bowed their radiant heads and listened. 



m HEAVEK YS 



" Lord, from Thy Throne of Glory here, 
My heart turns fondly to another ; 
O Lord ! our God, the Comforter, 

Comfort, comfort, imj sweet Mother I 
Many sorrows hast Thou sent her, 

Meekly has she drained the cup ; 
And the jewels Thou hast lent her 
Unrepinlng yielded up. 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother! 

" Earth is growing lonely round her ; 
Friend and lover hast Thou taken ; 
Let her not, though woes surround her 

Feel herself by Thee forsaken- 
Let her think, when faint and weary, 

We are waiting for her here : 
Let each loss that makes earth dreary 
Make the hope of heaven more dear. 
Comfort, comfort, mij sweet Mother . 

" Thou, who once in nature human. 
Dwelt on earth a little child, 
PilloAved on the breast of Woman, 

Blessed Mary ! undefiled. 
Thou who, from the cross of sutfering, 

Marked Thy Mother's tearful face. 
And be(]ueathed her to Thy loved one, 
Bidding him to fill Thy place : 

Comfort, comfort, vijj sweet Mother t 



74 IN HEAVEN. 



" Tlioii who once, from lieaven descending, 
Teai-s and woes and conflicts Avon : 
Thou who, nature's L-iws suspending, 

Gav'st the widow back lier son : 
Thou who, at the grave of Lazarus 

Wept with those who wept their dead : 
Thou ! who once in mortal anguish 
Bowed Thine own anointed head, 

Comfort, comfort, imj sweet Mother 1* 

The dove-like murmurs died aAvay 

Upon the radiant air. 
But still the little suppliant knelt 

With hands still clasjied in prayer; 
Still were those mildl}-j)leading eyes 

Turned to the sapphire throne, 
Till golden harp and angel voice 

Rang forth in mingled tone ; 
And as the swelling niunbei^ flowed, 

By angel voices given. 
Rich, sweet, and clear, the anthem rolled 

Through all the courts of lieaven. 
"He is the widow's God," it said, 

AVho spared not " His OAvn Son," 
The infant cherub bowed his head— 

" Thy will, O Lord! be done" 



"/r IS I; -BE NOT afraid:'' 75 



''IT IS I; BE NOT AFRAIDr 

Matt. 14 : ZL 

TOSSED with rough winds, and faint with 
fear, 
Above the tempest, soft and clear, 
What still small accents greet mine ear ? 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

« 'Tis I, who led thy steps aright ; 
'Tis I, who gave thy blind eyes sight ; 
'Tis I, thy Lord, thy Life, thy Light. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" These raging winds, thi? surging sea, 
Bear not a breath of wrath to thee ; 
That storm has all been spent on me. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" This bitter cup fear not to drink ; 
I know it well — oh ! do not shrink ; 
I tasted it o'er Kedron's brink. 

'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, 
Mine arms are underneath thy head, 
My blessing is around thee shed. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 



76 NATURE AXD FAITH. 



" "VMien on the otlier side thy feet 
Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet, 
One well-known voice thy heart shall greet. 
'Tis I ; be not afi-aid." 

" From out the dazzling majesty, 
Gently He'll lay His hand on thee, 
Whispering : " Beloved, lov'st thou me ? 
*Twas not in vain I died for thee. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid.** 



NATURE AND FAITH. 
2 Cor. 4 : 17, 18. 

WE wept — 'tAvas Nature w^ept, but Faith 
Can pierce beyond the gloom of death, 
And in yon world, so fair and bright, 
Behold thee in refulgent light ! 
We miss thee here, yet Faith would rather 
Know thou art with thy heavenly Father. 

Nature sees the body dead — 

FaitJi beholds the spirit fled ; 

Nature stops at Jordan's tide — 

Faith beholds the other side ; 

Tliat but hears farewell and sighs, 

This, thy Avelcome in the skies; 



NATURE AND FAITH. '^7 

Natwe mourns a cruel blow 
Faith assures it is not so ; 
Nature never sees thee more— 
Faith but sees thee gone before ; 
Nature tells a dismal story— 
Faith has visions full of glory ; 
Nature views the change with sadness— 
Faith contemplates it with gladness ; 
Nature nmrmnrs— Faith gives meekness, 
« Strength is perfected in weakness ;" 
Nature writhes, and hates the rod— 
Faith looks up and blesses God ; 
Sense looks downwards —Faith above ; 
Thai sees harshness— i/iw sees love. 
Oh ! let Faith victorious be— 
Let it reign triumphantly ! 

But thou art gone ! not lost, but flown ! 
Shall 1 then ask thee back, my own, 
Back— and leave thy spirit's brightness? 
Back— and leave thy robes of whiteness ? 
Back— and leave thine angel mould ? 
Back— and leave those streets of gold ? 
Back— and leave the Lamb who feeds thee ? 
Back— from founts to which He leads thee ? 
• Back— and leave thy heavenly Father ? 
Back— to earth and sin ?— Nay ; rather 



78 MT LAMBS. 



Would I live in solitude ! 
I icoidd not ask thee if I could; 
But patient wait the high decree, 
That calls my spirit home to thee ! 



MY LAMBS. 

I LOVED them so, 
That when the Elder Shepherd of the fold 
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold, 
And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, 
I bade him go. 

He claimed the pet — 
A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
Clung always, either in quiet or unrest — 
I thought of all my lambs I loved him best, 

And yet — and yet — 

I laid hmi down 
In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears ; 
For some voice told me that, in after-years. 
He should know naught of passion, grief, or fears, 

As I had known. 

And yet again 
That Elder Shepherd came. IMy heart grew faint. 



JfY LAMBS. 79 



He claimed another Iamb, with sadder plair.t, 
Another ! She who, gentle as a saint, 
Ne'er gave me pain. 

Aghast I turned away ! 
There sat she, lovely as an angel's dream, 
Her golden locks with sunlight all agleam, 
Her holy eyes with heaven in their beam. 

I knelt to pray. 

" Is it Thy will ? 
My Father, say, must this pet lamb be given ? 
Oh ! Thou hast many such, dear Lord, in heaven." 
And a soft voice said : '• Nobly hast thou striven ; 

But — peace, be still." 

Oh ! how I wept, 
And clasped her to my bosom, with a wild 
And yearning love — my lamb, my pleasant child 
Her, too, I gave. The little angel smiled. 

And slept. 

" Go ! go ! " I cried : 
For once again that Shepherd laid His hand 
Ui)on the noblest of our household band. 
Like a pale spectre, there He took His stand, 

Close to his side. 

And yet how wondrous sweet 
The look Avith which he heard my passionate cry . 



80 3fY lambf:. 



" Touch not my lamb ; for him, oli ! let me die ! " 
" A little while," He said, with smile and sigh, 
" Again to meet." 

Hopeless I fell ; 
And when I rose, the light had burned so low, 
So faint, I could not see my darling go : 
He had not bidden me farewell, but oh ! 

I felt farewell 

More deeply, far, 
Tlian if my arms had compassed that slight frame : 
Though could I but have heard him call my name — 
" Dear mother !" — but in heaven 'tAvill be the same ; 

There burns my star ! 

He will not take 
Another lamb, I thought, for only one 
Of the dear fold is spared, to be my sun, 
My guide : my mourner when this life is done .* 

My heart would break. 

Oh ! with what thrill 
f heard Him enter ; but I did not know 
(For it was dark) that He had robbed me so. 
The idol of my soul — he could not go — 

O heart ! be still ! 

Came morning. Can 1 tell 
How this poor frame it<5 sorrowful tenant kepf ? 



^fY LA3IBS. 81 



For waking tears were mine ; I, sleeping, wejifc, 

And days, months, years, that weary vigil kept. 

Alas! "Farewell." 

How often it is said ! 
I sit and think, and wonder too, sometime, 
How it will seem, when, in that happier clime, 
It never will ring out like funeral chime 

Over the dead. 

No tears ! no tears ! 
Will there a day come that I shall not weep ? 
For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. 
Yes, yes ; thank God ! no grief that clime shall 
keep, 

No weary years. 

Ay ! it is well : 
Well with my lambs, and with their earthly guide ; 
There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, 
Ov strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — 

Ay ! it is well. 

Tlu'ough the dreary day, 
■^rhey often come from glorious light to me ; 
\ cannot feel their touch, their faces see. 
Yet mj soul whispers, they do come to me ; 

Heaven is not far away. 



82 THE CALL. 



THE CALL. 

THE night Avas ciark ; behold, the shade was 
deeper 
In the ohi garden of Gethsemane, 
When that calm vobe awoke the weary sleeper : 
" Could'st thou not watch one hour alone with 
me ?" 

O thou ! so weary Oi" thy self-denials, 
And so impatient of thy little cross, 

Is it so hard to bear tiiy daily trials, 

To count all ear*"hly things a gainful loss ? 

What if thou alwci'^ suffer tribulation. 

And if thy Christian warfare never cease ; 

The gaining of the r^uiet habitation 
Shall gather thee to everlasting pea/^e. 

But here we all must suffer, walking lonely 
The path that Jesu3 once Himself hatli gone : 

Watch thou in patience, through the dark hour 
only— 
This one dark h:>nr — before the eternal dawn. 

Tlie captive's oar ijiy pause upon the galley, 
The soldier sleep beneath his plumed crest, 

And Peace may fold her wings o'er hill and valley t 
Rut thou, O Christian ! must not take t'ly rest. 



THE CALL 8n 



Tlioii must walk on, however man uprald tliee, 
With Him who trod the wine-press all alone; 

Thou wilt not find one human hand to aid thee, 
One huiuan sonl to comprehend thine own. 

Heed not the images for ever thronging 

From out the foregone life thou liv'st no more. 

Faint-heai-ted mariner ! still art thou longing 
For tlie dim line of the receding shore ? 

Wilt thou find rest of soul in thy returning 
To that old path thou hast so vainly trod ? 

Hast thou forgotten all tliy weary yearning 
To walk among the children of thy God : 

Faithful and steadfast in their consecration, 
Living by that high faitli to thee so dim, 

Declaring before God their dedication, 
So far from thee because so near to Him ? 

Canst thou forget thy Christian superscription, 
" Behold, Ave count them happy which endure " ? 

What treasure wouldst thou, in the land Egyptian, 
Repass the stormy water to secure ? 

And wilt thou yield thy sure and glorious ])romi55e 
For the poor, fleeting joys earth can afford ? 

No hand caii take away the ti*easure from us, 
That rests witliin the keeping of the Lord. 



84 THE CALL. 



Poor, wandering soul ! I know that thon art seek- 
ing 

Some easier way, as all have sought before, 
To silence the reproachful inward speaking — 

Some landward path unto an island shore. 

The cross is heavy in thy human measure, 
The way too narrow for thine inward pride ; 

Thou canst not lay thine intellectual treasure 
At the low footstool of the Crucified. 

Oh ! that my faithless soul, one great hour only, 
Would comprehend the Cln-istian's perfect life ; 

Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely. 
Yet calmly looking upward in its strife ! 

For poverty and self-renunciation, 

The Father yielded back a thousand-fold ; 

In the calm stillness of regeneration, 
Cometh a joy we never knew of old. 

In meek obedience to the heavenly Teacher, 
Thy weary soul can find its only peace ; 

Seeking no aid from any human creature — 
Looking to God alone for his release. 

And He will come in His own time and power 
To set His earnest-hearted children free : 

Watch only through this dark and painful hour, 
And the bright morning yet will break for thee. 



GOD'S ANVIL. 85 



GOD'S ANVIL. 

PAIN'S fui-nace-heat within me (|(iivers, 
(iod's bivath u})oii the fire doth blow, 
And all my heait in anguish shivers, 

And trembles at the fiery glow ; 
And yet I whisper, "As (iod will!" 
And in His hottest fire hold still. 

He eonies, and lays my heart, all heated, 

On the bare anvil, minded so 
Into His own fair shape to beat it, 

With His great hammer, blow on blow; 
And yet T whisper, "As God will ! " 
And at His heaviest blows hold still. 

He takes my softened heart, and beats it. 

The sparks fly off' at every blow. 
He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it. 

And lets it cool, and makes it glow . 
And yet I whisper, "As God will ! " 
And in His mighty hand hold still. 

Why sliould I murmur ? for the sorrow 
Thus only longer-lived would be ; 

Its end may come, and will, to-morrow, 
When God has i\o\w Tlis woi-k in me: 



86 THE CEOSS AXD CHOWX. 



So I say trusting, '-As God -will ! " 
And, trusting to the end, hold still. 

He kindles, for my profit purely, 
Afiliction's glcwing, i^.er}- brand ; 

And all His heaviest blows are surely 
Inflieted b}- a nuister-hand ; 

So I say, praying, "As God will ! " 

And hope in Hiui, and sutler still. 



THE CROSS AXD CROWy. 

"IV ,pUST Jesus bear the cross alone, 
jAJl And all the world go tree ? 
No ; there's a cross for every one, 
And there's a- cross for me. 

How happy are the saints above, 
Who once went sorrowing here , 

But now they taste unmingled love 
And joy without a tear. 

The consecrated cress Til bear. 
Till death shall set me tree ; 

A.nd then go home, my crown to wear, 
For there's a crown for me. 



EVEN ME. B7 



Upon tlie crystal paven^ent, down 

At Jesus' pierced feet, 
Joyful I'll cast my golder. ^rown, 

And Ills dear name repeat ; 

And palms sliall wave, and harps shall ring, 
Beneath heaven's arches high ; 

The Lord that lives, tlic ^-ansomed sing, 
That lives no more to die. 



EVEN Mt. 

LORD ! I hear of showers of blessing 
Thou art scatteri'ic;, full and free ; 
Showers the thirsty soul refreshing — 
Let some droppings fall on me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O gracious Father ! 

Lost and sinful though 1 be ; 
Thou mightst curse me, ^^ni the rather 

Let Thy mercy light on me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, tender Saviour ! 
Let me love and cilno: to Thee : 



88 EVEN ME. 



Fain I'm longing for Thy favor ; 
When Thou callest, call for me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 

Thou canst make the blind to see ; 
Testify of Jesus' merit. 

Speak the Avord of peace to me. 

Even me. 

Have I long in sin been sleeping. 
Long been slighting, grieving Thee ? 

Has the world my heart been keeping ? 
Oh ! forgive and rescue me. 

Even me. 

Love of God ! so pure and changeless ; 

Love of Christ ! so rich and free ; 
Grace of God ! so strong and boundless ; 

Magnify it all in me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, almighty Spirit ! 

Draw this lifeless heart to Thee ; 
Impute to me the Saviour's merits ; 

Blessing others, oh ! bless me. 

Even me. 



TEE PEACE OF GOD. 89 



MY SAVIOUR, CRUCIFIED. 

OMY Saviour, crucified ! 
Near Thy cross may I abide ; 
There to gaze, with steadfast eye. 
On Thy dying agony. 

Jesus, bruised and put to shame, 
Tells me all the Father's name ; 
God is love, I surely know, 
By my Saviour's depths of woe I 

In ECs sinless soul's distress, 
I behold my guiltiness ; 
Oh ! how vile my low estate, 
Since my ransom was so great. 

Dwelling on Mount Calvary, 
Contrite shall my spirit be ; 
Rest and holiness shall find, 
Fashioned like my Saviour's mind. 



THE PEACE OF GOD. 

"T'TT'E ask for peace, O Lord ! 

VV Thy children ask Thy peace ; 
Not what the world calls rest. 
That toil and care should cease. 



90 THE PEACE OF GOD. 



That through bright sunny hours, 

Cahn life shoukl fleet away, 
And tranquil night should fade 

In smiling' day. 
It is not for such peace that we would pray. 

We ask for peace, O Lord ! 

Yet not to stand secure, 
Gu't round with iron pride. 

Contented to endure ; 
Crushing the gentle strings 

That human hearts should know ; 
Untouched by others' joys, 

Or others' woe. 
Thou, O dear Lord ! wilt never teach us so. 

We ask Thy peace, O Lord ! 

Through storm and fear and strife, 
To light and guide us on 

Through a lono;, strugglino; life ; 
While no success or gain 

Shall cheer the desperate fight, 
Or nerve what the world calls 

Our wasted might ; 
Yet pressing through the darkness to the light. 

It is Thine own, O Lord ! 
Who toil while others sleep ; 



PEACE. 



91 



Who sow, with living care, 

What other hands shall reap ; 
They lean on Thee, entranced 

In calm and perfect rest ; 
Give us that peace, O Lord ! 

Divine and blest. 
Thou keepest for those hearts that love Thee 

[best. 



PEA C E. 

I' IFE'S mystery— deep, restless as the ocean— 
_J Hath surged and wailed for ages to and 
fro ; 
Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion, 

As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
Shivering and yearning by that unknown se:i, 
Let my soul calm itself, O God ! in Thee. 

Life's sorrows, with inexorable power, 
Sweep desolation o'er this mortal phin ; 

And human loves and hopes fly as tlie .liafl- 
Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened gram 

Oh ' when before that blasl my hopes all flee, 

Let my soul calm itself, O Chdst ! in Thee. 

Between the mysteries of death and life 

Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 



92 PEACE. 



We ask, and thou art silent ; yet ^\e. gaze, 

And our charmed hearts forget their drear com- 
plaining. 

No crushing fate, no stony destiny. 

Thou " Lamb that hath been slain !" Ave rest in 
Thee. 

The many waves of thought, the mighty tides. 
The ground-swell tljat rolls up from other lands, 

From far-oS' worlds, from dim, eternal shores. 
Whose echo dashes o'er life's wave-worn strands ; 

This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 

Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord ! in Thee. 

Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheefs, 
Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown 
of poAver ; 
And when the dark enigma presseth sore, 

Thy patient voice saith : " A^^atch with me one 
hour." 
As sinks the moaning river in the sea. 
In silent peace, so sinks my soul in Thee. 



PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 93 



PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 

FATHER ! before thy footstool kneeling, 
Once more my heart goes up to Thee ; 
For aid, for strength, to Thee appealing, 
Thou who alone canst succor me. 

Hear me ! for heart and flesh are failing — 

My spirit yielding in the strife ; 
And anguish, wild as unavailing. 

Sweeps in a flood across my life. 

Help me to stem the tide of sorrow ; 

Help me to bear Thy chastening rod ; 
Give me endurance ; let me borrow 

Strength from thy promise, O my God ! 

Not mine the grief which Avords may lighten ; 

Not mine the tears of common woe : 
The pang with which my heart-strings tighten, 

Only the All-seeing One may know. 

And I am weak ; my feeble spirit 

Shrinks from life's task in wild dismay : 

Yet not that Thou that task wouldst spare it, 
My Father, do I dare to pray. 

Into my soul Thy might infusing. 

Strengthening my spirit by Thine own, 



94 PRAYER FOR STREN-QTH. 



Help me — all other aid refusing — 
To cling to Thee, and Thee alone. 

And oh ! in my exceeding weakness, 

Make Thy strength perfect : Thou art strong ! 

Aid me to do Thy will with meekness, 
Thou, to whom all my powers belong. 

Saviour ! our human form once wearing, 
Help, by the memory of that day, 

When, painfully T\\^ dark cross bearing, 
E'en for a time Thy strength gave way. 

Beneath a lighter burden sinking, 

Jesus, I cast myself on Thee; 
Forgive, forgive this useless shrinking 

From trials that I know must be. 

Oh ! let me feel that Thou art near me. 

Close to Thy side I shall not fear. 
Hear me, O Strength of Israel ! hear me ; 

Sustain and aid ! in mercy, heax 1 



ONWARD. 9o 



JV W A RD. 

TRAVELER, fliint not on the road, 
Droop not in the parching sun; 
Onward, onward witli thy load, 

Till the night lie won. 
Swerve not, though thy bleeding feet 
Fain the narrow path would leave ; 
From the biu^den and the heat, 
Thou shalt rest at eve. 

Midst a world that round thee fades, 

Brightening stars and twilight life ; 
"When a sacred calm pervades 

All that now is strife ; 
Rich the joy to be revealed 

In that hour from labor free. 
Bright the splendors that shall yield 

Happiness to thee. 

Master of a holy charm, 

Yet be patient on thy way ; 
Use the spell, and check the harm 

That would lead astray. 
From the petty cares tliat teem, 

Turn thee, with proplietic eye, 
To the glory of tliat dream 

Which shall never die- 



96 GRIEF WAR SET^T THEE FOR THY GOOD. 



By the mystery of thy trust ; 

By the grandeur of that hour 
When mortality and dust 

Clothed eternal power ; 
By the purple robe of shame, 

The mockery, and the insulting rod ; 
By the anguish that o'ercame 

The incarnate God : 

Faint not ! fail not! be thou strong, 

Cast away distrust and fear; 
Though the weary day seems long, 

Yet the night is near. 
Friends and kindred wait beyond — 

They who passed the trial pure : 
Traveler, by that holy bond, 

Shrink not to endure. 



GRIEF WAS SENT THEE FOR THY GOOD 

SOME there are who seem exempted 
From the doom incurred by all : 
Are they not more sorely tempted ? 

Are they not the firet to fall ? 
As a mother's firm denial 

Checks her infant's wayward mood, 
Wisdom lurks in every trial — 
Grief was sent thee for thy good. 



SCEN'ES " ON- JORDAN-\S STB AND:' 97 



fn the scenes of former pleasure, 

Present anguish hast thou felt ; 
O'er thy fond heart's dearest treasure, 

As a mourner, hast thou knelt ; 
In thy hour of deep affliction, 

Let no impious thoughts intrude : 
Meekly bow, with this conviction — 

Grief was sent thee for thy good. 



SCENES " ON JORDAN'S STRANDy 

r'T^HERE came a little child, with sunny hair, 
1. All fearless to the brink of Death's dark 
river. 
And with a sweet confiding in the care 

Of Him who is of life the Joy and Giver ; 
And, as u})on the waves she left our sight, 
We heard her say : " My Saviour makes them 
brioht." 



Next came a youth, with bearing most serene. 
Nor turned a single backward look of sadness ; 

But, as lie left each gay and floAvery scene, 

Smiling declared : ''• My soul is thrilled with 
o-ladness ! 



98 SCENES " ON JORDAN'S STRAND:' 



"Wliat earth deems bright, for ever I resign, 
Joyful but this to know, that Christ is mine/ 



An aged mourner, trembling, tottered by, 
And paused a moment by the swelling river ; 

Then glided on beneath the shadowy sky, 

Singing : " Clu'ist Jesus is my strength for ever ! 

Upon His arm my feeble soul I lean. 

My glance meets His, without a cloud between," 

And scarce her last triumphant note had died, 
Ere hastened on a man of wealth and learning, 

Who cast at once his bright renown aside, 
These only words unto his friends returning 

" Christ for my Wisdom thankfully I own. 

And as ' a little child ' I seek His throne." 



Then saw I this : that, whether guileless child, 
Or youth, or age, or genius, won salvation, 

Each self-renouncing came ; on each God smiled , 
Each found the love of Christ rich compensation 

For loss of friends, earth's pleasures, and renown ; 

Each entered heaven, and •' by His side sat down." 



TKEBE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 99 



THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 

BEYOND the stars that shine in golden glory, 
Beyond the calm sweet moon, 
Up the bright ladder saints have trod before thee, 

Soul ! thou shalt venture soon. 
Secure with Him who sees thy heart-sick yearning, 

Safe in His arms of love, 
Thou shalt exchange the midnight for the morning.. 
And thy fair home above. 

Oh ! it is sweet to watch the world's nlMit wearino 

The Sabbath morn come on, 
And sweet it were the vineyard labor sharing — 

Sweeter the labor done. 
All finished ! all the conflict and the sorrow , 

Earth's dream of anguish o'er ; 
Deathless there dawns for thee anightless morrow 

On Eden's blissflil shore. 

Patience ! then, patience ! soon the pang of dying 

Shall all forgotten be, 
And thoii, through rolling spheres rejoicing, ilying 

Beyond tlie wnvcless sea, 



100 THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 



Shalt know hereafter where thy Lord doth lead 
thee, 
His darkest dealings trace 
And by those fountains where His love will feed 
thee, 
Behold Him face to face. 



Then bow thine head, and God shall give thee 
meekness, 

Bravely to do His will; 
So shall arise His glory in thy weakness — 

O struggling soul ! be still. 
Dark clouds are His pavilion shining o'er thee, 

Thine heart must recognize 
The veiled Shechinah moving on before thee, 

Too bright to meet thine eyes. 

Behold the wheel that straightly moves, and fleetly 

Performs the Sovereign Word ; 
Thou know'st His suifering love I then suffering 
meekly. 

Follow thy loving Lord ! 
Watch on the tower, and Usten by the gateway, 

Nor weep to wait alone ; 
Take thou thy spices, and some angel straightway 

Shall roll awav the stone. 



''THY WILL BE BONE:' 101 



Then slialt thou tell thy living Lord hath risen, 

And risen but to save ; 
Tell of the might that breaks the Captive's prison, 

And life beyond the grave ! 
Tell how lie met thee, all His radiance shrouded ; 

How in thy sorrow came 
His pitying voice breathing, when faith was 
clouded. 

Thine own familiar name. 

So at the grave's dark portal thou may'st linger, 

And hymn some happy strain ; 
The passing world may mock the feeble singer — 

Heed not, but sing again. 
Thus wait, thus watch, till He the last link sever, 

And changeless rest be won ; 
Then in His glory thou shalt bask for ever, 

Fear not the clouds — press on ! 



"77iy WILL BE DONEP' 

FOUR little words, no more — 
Easy to say ; 
But thoughts that went before, 
Can words convey ? 



102 " THY WILL BE LONE: 



The struggle, only known 

To one proud soul, 
And Him whose eye alone 

Has marked the whole, 

Before that stul)born will 

At length was broke, 
And a low " Peace, be still !" 

One soft Voice spoke ; 

The pang, when that sad heart 

Its dreams resigned, 
And strength was found, to part 

Those bonds long twined, 

To yield that treasure up. 

So fondly clasped, 
To drain that bitter cup. 

So sadly grasped ! 

But all is calm at last, 

" Thy will be done !" 
Enough, the storm is past, 

The field is won. 

Now for the peaceful breast, 

The quiet sleep ; 
For soul and spirit rest, 

Tranquil and deep. 



THEY SHALL BE MINE ! 103 



Rest, whose full bliss and power 

They only know, 
Who knew the bitter hour 

Of restless woe. 

The rebel will subdued — 
The fond heart free — 
" Thy will be done !" — all good 
That conies from Theo. 

All weary thought and care, 

Lord, we resign ; 
Ours is to do, to bear, 

To choose is thine. 

Four little words, no more — 

Easy to say ; 
But what was felt before, 

Can words convey ? 



THEY SHALL BE MINE} 

" rr^HEY shall be mine!" Oh! lay them 
1 . down to slumber, 

Calm in the strong assurance that He gives ; 
He calls them by their names, He knows their 
number. 
And they shall live as surely as He lives. 



104 TBEY SHALL BE MINE! 



" They shall be mine !" upraised from earthl^i 
pillows, 
Gathered from desert sand, from mountains 
cold- 
Called from the graves beneath old ocean's billows. 
Called from each distant land, each scattered 
fold. 

AVell might the soul, that wondrous spark of 
being, 

Lit by His breath Avho claims it for His own, 
Shine in the circle which His love foreseeing, 

Destined to glitter brightest by His throne. 

But shall the dust fi'om earthly dust first taken 
And now long mingled witli its native earth, 

To life, to beauty, once again awaken. 

Thrill with tlie rapture of a second birth ? 

" They shall be mine !" they, as on earth we knew 
them — 

The lips Ave kissed, the hands we loved to press — 
Only a fuller lii'e be circling through them, 

Unfading youth, unchanging holiness. 

"They shall be mine !'' children of sin and sorrow, 
Giv'st Thou, O Lord ! heaven's almost verge to 
them ? 



LEAVE ME N-QT 2^0 W. 105 



No ; from each rlfltnl grave Thy crown shall 
borrow 
An added light — a prized and costly gem. 

" They shall be mine !" Thought fails and feeling 
falters, 

Striving to sound and fathom love divine ; 
All that we know — no time Thy promise alters — 

All that we trust, our loved ones shall be Thine. 



LEAVE ME NOT NOW. 

LEAVE me not now, while still the shade is 
creeping 
O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in Thee ; 
Hear my complaint, and while my soul is weeping, 
Breathe Thou the lioly dew of symp;ithy. 

Leave me not now, Thou Saviour of compassion, 
Willie yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 

Lord, by Thine anguish and Thy wond'rous passion, 
Do T entreat Thee now to linger here. 

Jesus, Thou soul of love, Thou heart of feeling, 
Let me repose the weary night away 

Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 
Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 



106 FAITH S REPOSE. 



Then leave me not, O Comforter and Fallier, 
Parent of love ! I live bnt in Thy sight ; 

Good Shepherd, to Thy fold the wand'rer gatlie" 
There to adore Tliee, morning, noon, and nigl. 



FAITH'S REPOSE. 

FATHER, beneath Thy sheltering wing, 
In sweet security we rest, 
And fear no evil earth can bring, 
In life, in death, supremely blest. 

For life is good, whose tidal flow 
The motions of Thy will obeys ; 

And death is good, that makes us know 
The Love Divine that all things sways. 

And good it is to bear the cross, 
And so Thy perfect peace to win ; 

And naught is ill, nor brings us loss. 
Nor works us harm, save only sin. 

Redeemed from this, we ask no more, 
But trust the love that saves to guide— 

The grace that yields so rich a store, 
Will o-rant us all we need beside. 



THE DELECTABLE ^lOUNTAIN^S. lOV 



THE DELECTABLE FOUNTAINS. 

I SEE them far away, 
In their cahu beauty, on the evening skies, 
Across the golden west their summits rise. 

Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
And often, ere the sunset Hght was gone. 
Gazing and longing, I have hastened on. 
As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
Forgotten in the hope those blissful heights to gain. 

Heaven lies not far beyond. 
But these are hills of earth, our changeful air 
Circles around them, and the dwellers there 

Still own mortalitj^'s mysterious bond. 
The ceaseless contact, the continued strife, 
Of sin and grace, which can but close with life, 
Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 
Still sounds between their path and the Celestial 
shore. 

But there, the pilgrims say, 
On these calm heights, the tumult and the noise 
Of all our busy cares and restless joys 

Has almost in the distance died away ; 
All the past journey " a right way " appears, 
Thoughts of the future wake no faithless fears, 



108 THE DELECTABLE M0U2ITAINS. 



And through the clouds, to their rejoicing eyes, 
The city's golden streets and pearly gates arise. 

Courage, poor fainting heart ! 
These happy ones in the far distance seen 
Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 

Weary and sorrowful, as now thou art. 
Linger no longer on the lonely plain, 
Press boldly onward, and thou too shalt gain 
Their vantage-ground, and then, with vigor new. 
All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 

Ah ! far too faint, too poor 
Are all our views and aims — we only stand 
Within the borders of the promised land, 

Its precious things we seek not to secure ; 
And thus our hands hang down, and oft unstrung 
Our harps are left the willow-trees among 
Lord, lead us forward, upward, till we know 
How much of heavenly bliss may be enjoyed be- 
low. 



" And then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show you 

the Delectable Mountains So he looked, and behold, at a 

great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, 
.... very delectal^le to behold, .... and it is as common, said 
they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when tl)ou 
coniest tliere, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of tlie 
Celestial City."— 5imi/an. 



THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 109 



THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 

AMID the shadows and the fears 
That overcloud this home of tears, 
Amid my povei-ty and sin, 
The tempest and the war within, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God! 

Drifting across a sunless sea, 
Cold, heavy mist, encurtaining me ; 
Toiling along life's broken road, 
With snares around, and foes abroad, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 

Mine is a day of fear and strife, 

A needy soul, a needy life, 

A needy world, a needy age ; 

Yet, in my perilous pilgrimage, 
I cast my soid on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 



110 THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 



To Thee I come — ah ! only Thou 
Canst wipe the sweat from off this brow 
Thou, only Thou, canst make me whole, 
And soothe the fever of my soul ; 

I cast my soul on Thee, 

Mighty to save e'en me, 

Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 

On Thee I rest — Thy love and grace 
Are my sole rock and resting-place ; 
In Thee my thirst and hunger sore, 
Lord, let me quench for evermore. 

I cast my soul on Thee, 

Mighty to save e'en me, 

Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 

'Tis earth, not heaven ; 'tis night, not nocn ; 
The sorrowless is coming soon ; 
But, till the morn of love appears. 
Which ends the travail and the tears, 

I cast my soul on Thee, 

Mghty to save e'en me, 

Jesus, Thou Son of God 1 



GOD'S WAYS. Ill 



aOD'S WAYS. 

HOW few who from their youthful day 
Look on to Avhat their life may be, 
Painting the visions of tlie way 

In colors soft, and bright, and free ; 
How few who to such paths have brought 
Tlie hopes and dreams of early thought ! 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 

The eager hearts, the souls of fire 
Who pant to toil for God and man, 

And view with eyes of keen desire 
The upland way of toil and pain ; 

Almost with scorn they think of rest, 

Of holy calm, of tranquil breast ; 

But God, through ways they have not known, 
^\ ill lead His own. 

A lowlier task on them is laid. 

With love to make the labor light , 

And then their beauty they must shed. 
On quiet homes and lost to sight. 

Changed are their visions high and fair, 

Yet calm and still they labor there ; 

For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 



112 GOD'S WAYS. 



The gentle heart that thinks with pain 
It scarce can lowliest tasks tiilfil, 

And if it dared its life to scan 

Would ask but pathway low and still ; 

Often such lowly heart is brought 

To act with power beyond its thought ; 

For God, through ways they have not kno\\-n, 
Will lead His own. 

And they the bright, who long to prove 

In joyous path, in cloudless lot, 
How fresh from earth their grateful love 

Can spring without a stain or spot ; 
Often such youthful heart is given 
The path of grief to walk to heaven ; 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
AVill lead His own. 

What matter what the path shall be ? 

The end is clear and bright to view : 
He knows that we a strength shall see 

Whate'er the day shall bring to do : 
We see the end, the house of God, 
But not the path to that abode ; 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 



DISTBACTIOXS IN PRAYER. 113 



DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER. 

CANNOT pray; yet Lord, thou know'st 

The pain it is to me, 

To have my vainly struggling thoughts 
Thus torn away from Thee. 



I 



Prayer was not meant for luxury 

Of selfish pastime sweet ; 
It is the prostrate creature's place 

At his Creator's feet. 

Had I, dear Lord, no pleasure found 

But in the thoughts of Thee, 
Prayer would have come unsought, and been 

A truer liberty. 

Yet Thou art oft most present, Lord, 

In weak distracted prayer ; 
A sinner out of heart with self, 

Most often finds Thee there. 

And prayer that humbles sets the soul 

From all illusions free, 
And teaches it how utterly, 

Dear Lord, it hangs on Thee. 



114 MY GUEST. 



The soul that on self-sacrifice 

Is dutifully bent, 
Will bless the chastening hand that makes 

Its prayer its punishment. 

Ah, Jesus ! why should I complain ? 

And why fear aught but sin ? 
Distractions are but outward things ; 

Thy peace dwells far within ! 

These surface troubles come and go 

Like ruffllngs of the sea ; 
Tlie deeper depth is out of reach 

To aU, my God, but Thee ! 



MY GUEST. 

I HAVE a wonderful Guest, 
Who speeds my feet, who moves my hands, 
^^^lo strengthens, comforts, guides, commands, 
Whose presence gives me rest. 

He dwells within my soul ; 

He swept away the filth and gloom, 
He garnished fair the empty room. 

And now pervades the whole 



MX GUEST. 115 



For aye, by day and night, 
He keeps tlie portal — suffers naught 
Defile the temple He has bought, 

And filled with joy and light. 

Once 'twas a cavern dim ; 
The home of evil thoughts, desires, 
Enkindled by infernal fires, 

Without one thought of Him. 

Regenerated by His grace, 
Still 'tis a meagre inn, at best, 
Wherein the King's to make His rest, 

And show His glorious face. 

Yet, Saviour, ne'er depart 
From this poor earthly cottage home, 
Until the Father bid me come, 

Whisp'ring within my heart : 

"I shake these cottage walls ; 
Fear not ! at My command they bow ; 
My heavenly mansions open now. 

As this poor dwelling falls." 

Then my dear wondrous Guest 
Shall bear me on His own right hand 
Unto that fair and Promised Land, 

Where I in Him shall rest 



116 OOMINd 



COMING. 



At even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the 
morning." 

^ ^ "FT may be in the evening, 

I When the work of the day is done, 
And you have time to sit in the twilight 

And watch the sinking sun, 
While the long bright day dies slowly 

Over the sea, 
And the hour grows quiet and holy 

With, thoughts of me ; 
While you hear the village children 

Passing along the street. 
Among those thronging footsteps 

JNIay come the sound of my feet : 
Therefore I tell you : Watch 

By the light of the e"\'ening star, 
When the room is growing dusky 

As the clouds afar ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home, 
For it may be through the gloaming 

I will come. 

" It may be when the midnight 
• Is heavy upon the land, 



COMING. 117 



And the black waves lying dumbly 

Along the sand ; 
Wlien the moonless night draws close, 
And the lights are out in tlie house : 
When the fires burn low and red, 
And the watch is ticking loudly 

Beside the bed : 
Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch, 
Still your heart must wake and watch 

In the dark room, 
For it may be that at midnight 

I will come. 

' It may be at the cock-crow, 
When the night is dying slowly 

In the sky. 
And the sea looks calm and holy, 

Waiting for the dawn 

Of the golden sun 

Which draweth nigh ; 
When the mists are on the valleys, shading 

The rivers chill. 
And my morning-star is fading, fading 

Over the hill : 
Behold I say unto you : Watch ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home ; 
In the chill before the dawninsr. 



118 COMING, 



Between the night and morning, 
I may come. 

"It may be in the morning, 

When the sun is bright and strong 
And the dew is glittering sharply 

Over the little lawn ; 
When the waves are laughing loudly 

Along the shore, 
And the little birds are singing sweetly 

About the door ; 
With the long day's work before you, 

You rise up with the sun, 
And the neighbors come in to talk a little 

Of all that must be done, 
But remember that / may be the next 

To come in at the door, 
To call you from all your busy work 

For evermore : 
As you work your heart must watch, 
For the door is on the latch 

In your room, 
And it may be in the morning 

I will come." 

So He passed down my cottage garden, 
By tlie path that leads to the sea, 



COMING. 11 9 



Till He came to the turn of the little road 
Where the birch and laburnum trcvi 

Lean over and arch the way ; 

There I saw him a moment stay, 
And turn once more to me, 
As I wept at the cottage door, 

And lift up His hands in blessing — 
Then 1 saw His face no more. 



And I stood still in the doorway. 

Leaning against the wall. 
Not heeding the fair white roses. 

Though I crushed them and let. them fall ; 
Only looking down the pathway , 

And looking toward the sea. 
And wondering, and wondering 

When He would come back for me ; 
Till I was aware of an Angel 

Who was going swiftly by. 
With the gladness of one who goeth 

Tn the Hjiht of (lod Most Hicfh 



He passed the end of the cottage 
Toward the garden gate — 
(I suppose he was come down 
At the setting of the sun 



120 COMING. 



To comfort some one in the village 

Whose dwelling was desolate) — 
And he paused before the door 

Beside my place, 
And the likeness of a smile 

Was on his face : 
Weep not," he said, " for unto you is given 

To watch for the coming of His feet 
Who is the glory of our blessed heaven ; 

The work and watching will be very 
sweet. 

Even in an earthly home ; 
And in such an hour as you think not 

He will come." 



So I am watching quietly 

Every day. 
Whene^'er the sun shines brightly, 

I rise and say : 
" Surely it is the shining of His face !" 

And look unto the gates of His high place 

Beyond the sea ; 
For I know He is coming shortly 

To summon me. 
And when a shadow falls across the window 

Of my room, 
Where I am working my appointed task, 



A QUIET MIND. 121 



1 lift my head to watch the door and ask 

If He ig come ; 
And the Angel answers sweetly 

In my home : 
Only a few more shadows, 

And He will come." 



A QUIET MIND. 

I HAVE a treasure which I prize ; 
Its like I cannot find : 
There's nothing like it on the earth ; 
'Tis this — a quiet mind. 

But 'tis not that I'm stupefied, 
Or senseless, dull, or blind ; 

'Tis God's own peace within my heart, 
Which forms my quiet mind. 

I found this treasure at the cross : 

And there, to every kind 
Of weary, heavy-laden souls, 

Christ gives a quiet mind. 

My Saviour's death and risen life, 

To give it were designed ; 
His love, the never-failing spring 

Of this, my quit't mind. 



122 A QUIET MIKD. 



The love of God within my breast, 
My heart to Him doth bind ; 

This is the peace of heaven on earth— 
This is my quiet mind. 

I've many a cross to take up now, 

And many left behind ; 
But present troubles move me not, 

Nor shake my quiet mind. 

And what may be to-morrow's cross, 

I never seek to find ; 
My Saviour says : " Leave that to me, 

And keep a quiet mind." 

And well I know the Lord hath said. 
To make my heart resigned, 

That mercy still shall follow those 
Who have this quiet mind. 

I meet with pride of wit and wealth, 
And scorn, and looks unkind ; 

It matters not — I envy none, 
While I've a quiet mind. 

I'm waiting now to see my Lord, 

So patient and so kind ; 
I want to thank Him face to face, 

For this my cjuit't mind. 



ALL IS LIGHT. 123 



ALL IB LIGHT. 

WHAT though storm-clouds gather round 
me, 
Hovering darkly o'er my way ? 
While I see the cross of Calvary 
Beaming with celestial ray, 
All is light, all is light ! 

What though mortal powers may falter ? 

Earthly plans and prospects fail ? 
With a heaven-born hope which entereth 

E'en to that within the veil. 
All is light, all is light! 

What though all my future pathway 

Be from mortal sight concealed ? 
With the love of Jesus glowing, 

As it lies to faith revealed. 
All is light, all is light ! 

E'en though death's deep vale before me 
Seem o'erspread with thickest gloom, 

While I see a heavenly radiance 
Bursting from beyond the tomb, 
All is light, all is light ! 



124 L0NGmG8. 



LONGINGS. 

WHEN shall I be at rest ? My trembling 
heart 
GroAvs weary of its burden, sickening still 
With hopes deferred. Oh ! that it were Thy 
will k 

To loose my bonds, and take me where Thou art I 

When shall I be at rest ? My eyes grow dim 
With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can 

see 
The waymarks that my Saviour left for me. 

Would it were morn, and I were safe with Him ! 

When shall I be at rest ? Hand over hand 
I grasp, and climb ever steeper hill, 
A rougher path. Oh ! that it Avere Thy will 

My tilled feet might tread the Promised Land ! 

Oh ! that I were at rest ! A thousand fears 
Come thronging o'er me, lest I fall at last. 
Would T were safe, all toil and danger past, 

And Thine own hands might wipe away my tears. 



LONGIKOS. 125 



Oh ! that I were at rest, like some I love, 

Whose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
Seeming to plead that either they might sta}' 

With men on eartli, or I with them aboAe. 

But why these murmm*s ? Thou didst never 
shrink 
From any toil or weariness for me — 
Not even from that last deep agony. 

Shall I beneath my little trials sink ? 

No, Lord ; for when I am indeed at rest, 

One taste of that deep bliss will quite efface . 
The sternest memories of my earthly race, 

Save but to swell the sense of being blest. 

Then lay on me whatever cross I need 

To bring me there. I know Thou canst not be 
Unkind, unfaithful, or untrue to me ! 

Shall I not toil for Thee, when Thou for me didst 
bleed? 



126 BRIDGES. 



BRID GE8. 

I HAVE a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Sighs ; 
It stretches from life's sunny part, 
To where its darkness lies. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch life's tide below, 
Sad thoughts come from the shadowy land 

And darken all its flow. 

Then, as it winds its way along 

To sorrow's bitter sea, 
Oh ! mournful is the spirit-song 

That upward floats to me. 

A song which breathes of blessings dead. 
Of friends and friendships flown ; 

And pleasures gone ! — their distant tread, 
Now to an echo grown. 

And hearing thus, beleaguering fears 

Soon shut the present out. 
While joy but in the past appears, 

And in the future doubt. 

Oh ! often then will deeper grow, 
The night that round me lies ; 

I wish that life had run its flow. 
Or never found its rise ! 



BRIDGES. 127 



I have a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Faith ; 

It spans, by a mysterious art, 

Tlie streams of life and death. t^ 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch the tide below, 
Sweet thoughts come from the sunny land, 

And brighten all its flow. 

Then, as it winds its way along 

Down to a distant sea. 
Oh ! pleasant is the spirit-song 

That upward floats to me. 

A song of blessings never sere, 

Of love " beyond compare," 
Of pleasures flowed from troublings here. 

To rise serenely there. 

And, hearing thus, a peace divine 

Soon shuts each sorrow out ; 
And all is hopeful and benign, 

Where all was fear and doubt. 

Oh ! often then will brighter grow 

The light that round me lies ; 
I see from life's beclouded flow 

A crystal stream arise. 



128 '' FATHER, TAKE MY hand: 



''FATHER, TAKE MY HAN Br 

ry^HE way is dark, my Father ! Cloud on cloud 
-JL Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud 
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand 
Like one bewildered ! Father, take my hand, 
And throuoh the gloom 
Lead safely home 
Thy cHld ! 

The day goes fast, my Father ! and the night 
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight 
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, 
Encompass me. O Father ! take my hand, 

And from the night 

Lead up to light 
Thy chUd ! 

The way is long, my Father ! and my soul 
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal : 
While yet I journey through this weary land, 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand ; 

Quickly and straight 

Lead to heaven's gate 
Thy child ! 



''FATHER, TAKE 3TY HAXDy ]29 



The path is rough, my Father ! INIany a thorn 
Has pierced me ; and my weary feet, all torn 
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command 
Bids me pri;ss forward. Father, take my hand ; 

Then, safe and blest, 

Lead up to rest 
Thy child ! 

The throng is great, my Father ! Many a doubt 
And fear and danger compass me about ;, 
And foes oppress me sore. 1 cannot stand 
Or go alone. O Father ! take my hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead safe along 
Thy child! 

The cross is heavy, Fatlier ! I have borne 
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn 
And fainting spirit rise to tiiat blest land 
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand ; 

And, reaching down, 

Lead to the crown 
ThychUdl 



130 THE GB AC 10 US AJYSWEB. 



THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 

The fuay is dark, my child! but leads to light 
I would not always have thee walk by sight. 
My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
I meant it so ; but I will take thy hand, 

And through the gloom 

Lead safely home 
My child! 

The day goes fast, my child ! But is the night 
Darker to me than day ? In me is light ! 
Keep close to me, and every sj>ectral band 
Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand. 

And through the night 

Lead up to light 
My child! 

The way is long, my child ! But it shall he 
Not one step longer than bt best for thee , 
A nd thou shalt know, at last, when thou shall stand 
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 

And quick and straight 

Lead to heaven's gate 
My child ! 



THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 131 



The path is rough, my child ! Bat oh ! how sweet 
Will he the rest, for wearij pilgrims meet, 
When thou shall reach the borders of that land 
To lohich I lead thee, as I lake thtj hand , 

And safe and blest 

With me shall rest 
My child ! 

The throng is great, my child ! But at thy side 
Thy Father ivalks : then be not terrified • 
For I am with thee ; will thy foes command 
To let thee freely pass : will take thy hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead safe along 
My child ! 

Tlie cross is heavy, child! Yet there was One 
Who bore a heavier for thee : my Son, 
My Well-beloved. For Him bear thine : and slant. 
With Him at last ; and, from thy Father's hand. 

Thy cross laid down, 

Receive a croion, 
My child! 

H. N. a 

Oroomiah^ Persia. 



132 ASLEEP Oy GUARD! 



ASLEEP OX GUARD I 

^^ /^~\ SHAME!" we're sometimes fain to say, 
\_J " On Peter sleeping, while His dear Lord 
lay 
Awake with anguish, in the garden's shade, 
Waiting His hour to be betrayed." 

We say, or think, if we had gone 
Thither — instead of Peter, James, and John — 
And Christ had left us on the outpost dim, 
As sentinels, to watch with Him ; 

We would have sooner died, than sleep 

The little time we vigil had to keep ; 

Then wake, to feel His torturing question's power 

" Could ye not watch with me one hour ?" 

One hour in sad Gethsemane ! 

And such an hour as that to Him must be ! 

All night our tireless eyes had pierced the shade, 

\Aniere He in grief's great passion prayed. 

What do we now, to make our word 
Seem no vain boast of love to Christ our Lord ? 
AVe cannot take the chidden slee])er's place, 
And shun, b , proof, His deep disgrace ! 



ASLEEP ON GUARD! 133 



No more, the olive's sliade bencatli, 
The human Christ foretastes the ciij) of death, 
And leaves His servants in the outer gloom, 
To watch till He again shall come ! 

Yet are there midnights dark and dread. 
When Jesus still by traitors is betrayed ; 
Our bosom-sin's the lurking foe at hand, 
And "Watch with me" is Christ's command. 

One little hour of sleepless care, 
And sin could wrest no victory from us there ; 
But, with the fame of our loved Lord to keep, 
Like those we scorn, we fall asleep. 

Oh ! if our risen Lord fnust chide 
Our souls, for slumbering His death-cross beside, 
What face have we to boast our feeble sense 
Had shamed poor Peter's vigilance ! 

On Peter, James, and John, no more 
The wrong reproach of hasty pride we pour ; 
But feel within the question's torturing power, 
" Could ye not watch with me one hour ?" 



134 THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 



THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 

MY God, is any hour so sweet, 
From blush of morn to eA^ening star, 
As that which calls me to Thy feet — 
The hour of prayer ! 

Blest is that tranquil hour of morn, 
And blest that hour of solemn eve, 

When, on the wings of faith up-borne, 
The world I leave ! * 

For then a day-spring shines on me. 
Brighter than morn's ethereal glow ; 

And richer dews descend from Thee 
Than earth can know. 

Then is my strength by Thee renewed ; 

Then do I feel my sins forgiven ; 
Then dost Thou cheer my solitude 

With joys of heaven. 

No words can tell what sweet relief 

There for my every want I find ; 
What strength for warfare, balm for grief, 

What peace of mind. 



THY WILL BE DONE. 135 



Hushed is each doubt, gone eveiy fear ', 
My spirit seems in heaven to stay ; 

And e'en the penitential tear 
Is wiped away. 

Lor. I ! till I reach that blissful shore, 
No privilege so dear shall be, 

As thus my inmost soul to pour 
In prayer to Thee. 



THY WILL BE DONE. 

WE see not, know not. All our way 
Is night. With Thee alone is day I 
From out the torrent's troubled drift, 
Above the storm — our prayers we lift — 
Thy will be done ! 

The flesh may fail, the heart may faint, 
But who are we, to make complaint, 
Or dare to plead, in times like these, 
The weakness of our love of ease ? 
Thy will be done ! 

We take with solemn thankfulness 
Our burden ap, nor ask it less ; 
And count it joy, that even we 



136 fUY WILL BE DONS, 



May suffer, serve, or wait lor Thee^ 
AVliose will be done : 

Though dun, as yet, in tint and line. 
We trace Thy picture's wise design, 
And thank Thee that our age supplies 
Its dark relief of sacrifice^ — 
Thy will be done ! 

And if, in our un worthiness, 
Thy sacrificial wine we press ; 
If, from Thy ordeal's heated bars, 
Our feet are seamed with crimson scars, 
Thy will be done ! 

If, for the age to come, this hour 
Of trial hath vicarious power ; 
And, blest by Thee, our present pain 
Be Liberty's eternal gain, 
Thy will be done ! 

Strike ! Thou the Master, we Thy keys, 
The anthem of the destinies ! 
The minor of Thy loftier strain, 
Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain — 
Thy will be done ! 



HYMN OF TRUST. 137 



HYMN OF TRUST. 

OLOVE Divine ! that stooped to share 
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear ; 
On Thee we cast each earth-born care ; 
A7e smile at pain while Thou art near ! 



Though long the weary way we tread, 
And sorrows crown each lingering year, 

No path we shun, no darkness dread, 

Oui' hearts still whispering, Thou art neap 



When drooping pleasure turns to grief, 
And trembling faith is changed to fear. 

The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, 
Shall softly tell us, Thou art near ! 

On Thee we fling our burdening woe, 
O Love Divine ! for ever dear ; 

Content to sutler, while we know, 
Living and dying, Thou art near I 



138 THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 

BY Nebo's lonely mountain, 
On this side Jordan's wave, 
In a vale in the land of Moab, 

There lies a lonely grave ; 
And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e'er, 
For the " Sons of God " upturned the sod, 
And laid the dead man there. 



That was the grandest funeral 

That ever passed on earth ; 
But no man heard the tramphng, 

Or saw the train go forth. 
Noiselessly as the daj'-light 

Comes when the night is done. 
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek 

Grows into the great sun — 

Noiselessly as the spring-time 
Her crown of verdure weaves, 

And all the trees on all the hills 
Open their thousand leaves ; 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 139 



So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of them that wept, 
Silently down from the mountain's crown 

The great procession swept. 

Perchance the bald old eagle. 

On gray Beth-peor's height, 
Out of his rocky eyry 

Looked on the wondrous sight ; 
Perchance the lion stalking 

Still shuns that hallowed spot : 
For beast and bird have seen and heard 

That which man knoweth not. 

But when the warrior dieth. 

His comrades in the war. 
With arms reversed, and muffled drum, 

Follow the funeral car. 
They show the banners taken. 

They tell his battles won, 
And after him lead his masterless steed, 

While peals the minute-gun. 

Amid the noblest of the land 

Men lay the sage to rest, 
A'ld give the bard an honored place, 

With costlv marble drest — 



140 TEE BURIAL OF 3I0SE8. 

In the great minster transept, 

Where lights like glories fall, 
And the sweet choir sings, and the organ ringe 

Along the emblazoned wall. 

This was the bravest warrior 

That ever buckled sword ; 
This, the most gifted poet 

That ever breathed a word ; 
And never earth's philosopher 

Traced with his golden pen. 
On the deathless page, truths half so sage 

As he wrote down for men. 

And had he not high honor ? 

The hill-side for his pall. 
To lie in state while angels wait, 

With stars for tapers tall. 
And the dark rock-pines like tossing plumes 

Over his bier to wave. 
And God's own hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him in the grave ! 

In that deep grave without a name, 

AVhence his uncoffined clay 
Shall break again — most wondrous thought — 

Belbre the Judgment-day, 



^'Now:* 141 



And stand, with glory wrapped around, 

On the hills he never trod, 
And speak of the strife that won our life 

With the Incarnate Son of God. 



O lonely tomb in Moab's land ! 

O dark Beth-peor hill ! 
Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 
God hath His mysteries of grace, 

Ways that we cannot tell ', 
And hides them deep, like the secret sleep 

Of him He loved so well. 



]^ W 



a 



RISE ! for the day is passing. 
And you lie dreaming on ; 
The others have buckled their armor, 

And forth to the fight are gone : 
A place in the ranks awaits you, 

Each man has souie part to play ; 
The Past and Future are looking 
In the face of the stern To-day. " 



14-2 THE NEED OF JESUS. 



THE NEED OF JESUS. 

I NEED Thee, precious Jesus! 
For I am full of sin ; 
My soul is dark and guilty, 

My heart is dead within ; 
I need the cleansing fountain, 
Where 1 can alwa^-s flee — 
The blood of Christ most precious, 
The sinner's perfect plea. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

For I am very poor ; 
A stranger and a pilgrim, 

I have no earthly store ; 
I need the love* of Jesus, 

To cheer me on my way : 
To guide my doubting footsteps, 

To be my strength and stay. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

I need a friend like Thee — 
A friend to soothe and sympathize, 

A friend to care for me ; 
I need the heart of Jesus, 

To feel each anxious care. 
To tell my every want, 

And all rnv sorrows share. 



THE NEED OF JESUS. 143 



I need Thee, precious Jesus I 

For I am very blind ; 
A weak and foolish wanderer, 

With a dark and evil mind ; 
I need the light of Jesus, 

To tread the thorny road. 
To guide me safe to glory — 

Where I shall see my God. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

I need Thee day by day — 
To fill me with Thy fulness, 

To lead me on my way ; 
I need Thy Holy Si)irit, 

To teach me what I am. 
To show me more of Jesus, 

To point me to the Lamb. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

And hope to see Thee soon, 
Encircled with the rainbow, 

And seated on Thy throne ; 
There, with Thy blood-bought children, 

My joy shall ever be, 
To sing Thy praises, Jesus ! 

To gaze, my Lord, on Thee ! 



144 THE CHRISTIAN' AND HIS ECHO. 



THE CHRISTIAN AND HIS ECHO. 

TE,UE faith, producing love to God and mau, 
Say, Echo, is not this the Gospel plan ? 
The Gospel plan. 

Must I ray faith and love to Jesus show, 
By doing good to all, both friend and foe ? 
Both friend and foe. 

But if a brother hates and treats me ill, 
Must I return him good, and love him still ? 
Love him still. 

If he my failings watches to reveal, 
Must I his faults as carefully conceal ? 
As carefully conceal. 

But if my name and character he blast, 
.\nd cruel malice, too, a long time last; 
And, if I sorrow and affliction know, 
ITc loves to add unto my cup of woe ; 
In this uncommon, this peculiar case, 
8\veet Echo, say, must I still love and bless ? 
Still love and bless. 

AMiatever usage ill I may receive, 
^lust I be patient still, and still forgive ? 

Be patient still, and still forgive. 



THE CTTRISTTAN AND HIS ECHO. 145 



Why, Echo how is this V thou rt sure a dove ! 
Thy voice shall teach me nothing else but love ! 
Nothing else but love. 

Amen ! vrith ail my heart, then be it so ; 
'Tis all delightful, just, and good, I know: 
And now to practise I'll directly go. 
Directly go. 

Things being so, whoever me reject, 
My gracious God me surely will protect. 
Surely will protect. 

Henceforth I'll roll on Him my every care, 
And then both friend and foe embrace in prayer. 
Embrace in prayer. 

But after all those duties I have done. 
Must I, in point of merit, them disown. 
And trust for heaven through Jesus' blood alone ? 
Through Jesus' blood alone. 

Echo, enough ! thy counsels to mine ear, 
Are sweeter than, to flowers, the dew-drop tear ; 
Thy wise instructive lessons please me well : 
I'll go and practise them. Farewell, farewell I 
Practise them. Faro \v ell, farewell 1 



146 LESS AXD MOEK 



LESS AND MORE. 

TWO prayers, dear Lord, in one — 
Give me both less and more ; 
Less of the impatient workl, and more of Thee ; 

Less of myself, and all that heretofore 
Made me to slip where willing feet do run, 
And held me bacl< from where I fain would be — 
Kept me, my Lord, from Thee ! 

All things which most I need 

Are Thine ; Thou vrilt bestow 
Both strength and shiehl, and be my willing Guest ; 

Yet my weak heart t:i\'cs up a broken reed, 
Thy rod and staff doth readily forego, 
And I, Avho might be rich, am poor, distressed, 

And seek but have not rest. 

How long, O Lord, hoAv long ? 

So have I cried of late, 
As though T knew not what T well do know : 

Come Thou, Great Master Builder, and create 
Anew that which is Thine ; undo my wi-ong — 
Breathe on this waste, and life and liealth bestow : 

Come, Lord, let it be so I 



COMFORT BY THE ^VAY. 147 



Let it be so, and then — 

What then ? My soul shall Avalt, 
A d ever pray -all prayers, dear Lord, in one — 

Thy will o'er mine in all this mortal state 
Hold regal sway. To Thy commands, Amen ! 
Break from my waiting lips till work is done, 

And crown and glory won. 



COMFORT BY THE WAY. 

I JOURNEY through a desert drear and Avild, 
Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts 
beguiled, 
Of Ilim on whom I lean — my strength and stay — 
[can forget the sorrows of the way. 

Thoughts of His love ! the root of every grace 
Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place ; 
The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, 
And my calm pillow of repose by night. 

Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears ! 
The tale of love unfolded in those years 



148 RETROSPECT. 



Of sinless suffering and patient grace 
I love again, and yet again, to trace. 

Thoughts of His glory ! on the cross I gaze, 
And there behold its sad, yet healing rays ; 
Beacon of hope ! which, lifted up on high, 
Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimmed eye. 

Thoughts of His coming ! For that joyful day 
In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray ; 
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee, 
And what a sunrise will that advent be 

Thus while I journey on, my Lord to meet, 
My thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
Of Him on whom I lean — my strength, my stay— 
I can forget the sorrows of the way. 



RETROSPECT. 

OLO^TNG One ! O Bounteous One ! 
What have I not received from Tliee, 
Throughout the seasons that have gone 
Into the past eternity ! 

Lowly my name and mine estate ; 
Yet, Father, many a child of Thine, 



RETU OSFEOT. 149 



Of purer heart and cleaner hands, 
Walks in an humbler path than mine. 

And, looking backwai'd through the year 
Along the way my feet have pressed, 

I see sweet place's everywhere — 

Sweet places where my soul had rest. 

For, though some human hopes of mine 
Are dead, and buried from my sight, 

Yet from their graves immorttd flowers 
Have sprung, and blossomed into light. 

Body, and heart, and soul have been 
Fed by the most convenient food ; 

My nights are peaceful all the while, 
And all my mortal days are good. 

My sorrows have not been so light 

Thy chastening hand I could not trace ; 

Nor have my blessings been so great 
That they have hid my Father's face. 



150 THE VERDICT OF DEATR. 



HOW BOTH DEATH SPEAK OF OUR 
BELOVED? 

" The rain that falls upon the height, 
Too gently to be called delight, 
In the dark valley reappears 
As a wild cataract of tears : 
And love in life shall strive to see 
Sometimes what love in death wouLI be." 

Angel in the House. 

HOAV doth Death speak of our beloved, 
When it hath laid them low ; 
When it has set its hallowing touch 
On speechless lip and brow ? 

It clothes their every gift and grace 
With radiance from the holiest place, 
With light as from an angel's face ; 

Recalling with resistless force 

And tracing to their hidden source, 

Deeds scarcely noticed in their course. 

This little loving fond device, 

That daily act of sacrifice, 

Of which too late we learn the price I 

Opening our weeping eyes to trace 
Simple, unnoticcvl landnesses, 
Forgott(!n notes of tenderness, 



THE VERDICT OF DEATH. 151 



Which evermore to us must be 
Sacred as hymns in infancy, 
Learned listening at a mother's knee. 

Thus doth Death speak of our beloved 

When it lias laid them low : 
Then let Love antedate the work of Death, 

And do this now ! 



How doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
When it has set its hallowing touch 

On speechless lip and brow ? 

It sweeps their faults with heavy hand, 
As sweeps the sea the trampled sand, 
Till scarce the faintest print is scanned. 

It shows how such a vexing deed 
Was but generous nature's weed, 
Or some choice virtue run to seed ; 

How that small fretting fretfulness 
Was but love's over-anxiousness, 
Which had not been, had love been less. 

This failing, at which we repined, 
Brft the dim shade of day declined. 
Which should have made us doubly kind. 



152 THE VERDICT OF DEATH. 



Thus doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
Then let Love antedate the work ol" Death, 

And do this now I 



How doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
When it has set its hallowing touch 

On speechless lip and brow ? 

It takes each failing on our part, 
And brands it in upon the heart, 
With caustic poAver and cruel art. 

The small neglect that may have pained, 
A giant stature will have gained 
When it can never be explained : 

The little service which had proved 
How tenderly we watched and loved, 
And those mute lips to glad smiles mcred ; 

The little gift from out our store, 

Which might have cheered some cheerless 

hour. 
When they with earth's poor needs were poor 
But never will be needed more ! 



A 0HBIST31A8 HYMN. 153 



It shows our faults like fires at niglit ; 
It sweeps their failings out of sight, 
It clothes their good in heavenly light. 

O Clnist our life ! fore-date the work of Death, 

And do this now ! 
Thou who art love, thus hallow our beloved ! 

Not Death, but Thou ! 



A CHElST^fAS HYMN. 

IN human form enthroned, 
The sin of man atoned, 
Immanuel sits in highest seat of heaven , 
Our nature there He wears, 
And that blest union bears, 
In David's city on the low earth given. 

He draws us by a love, 

Not. such as seraphs move 
In happy life through all the realms of space 

More subtle is the chord. 

The speaking of a word 
In language learned among our fleshly race. 

" My blood, once flowing free 
Upon the d4rkened tree, 



154 THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AXD THE LIFE. 

Gives life to you in heaven's eternal room ; 
The Brother and the Friend, 
Through ages without end, 

Shall e'en outlast the Saviour from the doom. 



THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 

TIIOU art the Way ! 
All ways are thorny mazes without Thee ; 
Where hearts are pierced, and thoughts all aim- 
less stray. 
In Thee the heart stands firm, the life moves 
free : 
Thou art our Way ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Questions the ages break against in vain 

Confront the spirit in its untried youth ; 
It starves while learning poison from the grain : 

Thou art the Truth ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Truth for the mind, grand, glorious, infinite, 

A heaven still boundless o'er its highest growth ; 
Bread for the heart Its daily need to meet. 
Thou art the Truth ! 



THE Tr:-4F, THK TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 1 o j 



Thou art the Light ! 
Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can give ; 
Heaven's shadeless noontide blinds our morfal 
sight ; 
In Th(3e we look on God, and love and live : 
Thou art our Light ! 

Thou art the Rock ! 
Doubts none can solve heave wild on every side, 
Wave meetino; wave of thought in ceaseless 
shock ; 
On Thee the soul rests calm amidst the tide : 
Thou art the Rock ! 

Thou art the Life ! 
All ways without Thee paths that end in death ; 

All life without Thee with death's harvest rife ; 
All truths dry bones, disjoined and void of breath : 

Thou art our Life ! 

For Thou art Love ! 
Our Way and Eild ! the way is rest with Thee ' 

O hving Ti'uth ! the truth is life in Thee ! 
O Life essential ! life is bliss with Thee ! 

For Thou art Love 1 



156 THE TIME FOR PRAYER. 



THE TIME FOR PRAYER. 

WHEN is the time for prayer ? 
With the first beams that light the 
morning sky, 
Ere for the toils of day thou dost prepare, 

Lift np thy thoughts on high ; 
Commend thy loved ones to Ilis watchful care : 
Morn is the time for prayer. 

And in the noontide hour, 

If worn by toil, or by sad cares oppressed, 
Then unto God thy spirit's sorrow pour. 

And He will give thee rest ; 
Thy voice shall reach Him through the fields of 
air : 

Noon is the time for prayer. 

\'Vlien the bright sun hath set, 

While eve's bright colors deck the skies ; 
AVhen with the loved at home again thou'st met, 

Then let thy prayers arise ; 
For those who in thy joys and sorroAvs share, 

Eve is the time for prayer. 

And when the stars come forth — 

When to the trusting heart sweet hopes are 
given, 



LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 15 7 



And the deep stillness of the hour gives birth 

To pure bright dreams of heaven ; 
Kneel to thy God — ask strengtli, life's ills to bear : 

Night is the time for prayer. 

When is the time for prayer ? 

In every hour, while life is spared to thee ; 
In crowds or solitude, in joy or care, 

Thy thouglits should heavenward flee. 
At home, at morn and eve,with .loved ones there, 

Bend thou the knee in prayer ! 



LIGHT m DARKNESS. 

BREEZES of spring, all earth to life awak- 
ing, 
Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky. 
The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 

The seed up-springing which had seemed to die ; 

Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 
Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; 

But Aveary hearts longed for a surer token, 
A clearer ray, to dissipate its gloom. 

And this was granted ! See the Lord ascending, 
On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, 



158 GOM3rumoN wite god 



With barrels out-stretched, and looks of love still 
bending 
On his bereaved ones, who no longer mourn. 

" I am the resurrection ! " hear Him saying, 
" I am the life ; he who believes in me 

Shall never die ; the souls my call obeying, 
Soon where I am for evermore shall be." 

Sing halleluiah ! light from heaven appearing, 
The mystery of life and death is plain ; 

Now to the grave we can descend unfearing, 
In sure and certain hope to rise again ! 



COMMUNION WITH GOD. 

LORD, I am come along with Thee ! 
Thy voice to hear, Thy face to see, 
And feel Thy presence near ; 
It is not fancy's lovely dream, 
Though wondrous e'en to faith it seem, 
That Thou dost wait me here. 

A moment from this outward life. 
Its service, self-denial, strife, 
I joyfully retreat ; 
My soul, through Intercourse with Thee, 



COMMUyflOX WITH GOD. 150 



Strengthened, refreshed, and cahned shall be, 
Its scenes again to meet. 

How can it be that one so mean, 
A sinner, selfish, dark, unclean, 

. Thus in the Holiest stands ? 
And in that light divinely pure 
Which may no stain of sin endure, 
Lifts up rejoicing hands ! 

Jesus ! the answer Thou hast given ! 
Thy death, Thy life, have opened heaven 

And all its joys to me ; 
Washed in Thy blood — oh ! wondrous grace ! 
Tm holy as the Holy Place 

In which I worship Thee. 

How sweet, how solemn thus to lie, 
And feel Jehovah's searching eye 

On me well pleased can rest ! 
Because with His Beloved Son, 
The Father s grace has m:ide nie o?ie, 

I must be always blest. 

The secret pangs I could not tell 

To dearest friend — Thou knowest well ; 

They claim Thy gracious heart ; 
Thou dost remove with tender care. 



160 GOMMUKIOy WITH GOD. 



Or sweetly give me strength to bear 
The sanctifying smart. 

Thy presence has a wondrous power ! 
The sharpest thorn becomes a flower, 

And breathes a sweet perfume ; 
Whate'er looked dark and sad before, 
With happy light shines silvered o'er, 

There's no such thing as gloom ! 

Thou know'st 1 have a cross to bear ; 
The needful stroke Thou dost not spare, 

To keep me near Thy side ; 
But when I see the chastening rod 
In Thy pierced hand, my Lord, my God I 

I feel so satisfied ! 

Now, while I tell Thee how, within, 
I oft indulge my bosom sin, 

How faithless oft 1 prove ; 
Ko cold repulse, no frown I meet, 
But tender, soul-subduing, sweet 

Is the rebuke of Love. 



THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 161 



THE SUFFERER CHEERED 

' ^ QJ AY ! shall I take the thorn away ?'* 
K3 So spake my gracious Lord — 
" O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day, 
Thy nightly tears are poured ? 
Say ! shall I give thee rest and ease, 

Make earth's fair prospects rise, 
And bid thy bark o'er summer seas 
Float smoothly to the skies ? 

" Shall peace and plenty's cup swell liigh, 

Health leap through every vein, 
And all exempt thy moments fly 

From bitter inward pain ? 
Be naught to check the inspiring flow 

Of human friendship's tide; 
And every want thy heart can know, 

Be quickly satisfied ? 

" Know, thine ease-loving heart might miss 

The comfort with the cai-el 
And that full tide of earthly bliss 

Leave little room for prayer I 
Few were thy visits to the throne, 

Unhastened there by pain ; 
Thou, o'er thy bosom-sins, alone, 

Wouldst small advantage gain ? 



162 THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 



".Nor deem the highest, holiest joy 

A stranger still to woe ; 
Blest servants in my high emplov, 

Most closely hnked they go. 
My love illumes with tenderest rays 

The path of self-denial ; 
And bm-ning bright the glory's blaze 

That crowns the fiery trial ! 



" In conscious weakness thou shalt hang 

On my almighty arm ! 
Soon as the thorn iutiicts its pang, 

I'll pom- ray love's rich balm. 
Thou plainest in thy deepest woe 

Shalt feel me at thy side ; 
And, for my praise, to all shalt show, 

Thou art well satisfied. 



" Then, wilt thou in thy Master's cup 

Consent awhile to share ? 
Know, when in love I drank it up, 

No ivi'ath was left thee there ! 
Thy Saviour's love and power to bless, 

Trust where thou canst not see ! 
And in yon howling wilderness 

Step fearless forth with me 1 ** 



ALL IN CHRIST 163 



** J^orcl ! magnify Thyself in me !'* 

With talteriuo- lips I said ; 
For, strong to bear as faith may be, 

Weak nature quails with dread. 
But He who through the shrinking flesh 

The spirit's will can read, 
Smiled on His work, and bade afresh 

All grace meet all my need. 



ALL IN CHRIST. 

IN Thee my heart, O Jesus ! finds repose ; 
Thou bringest rest to all that weary are. 
Until that Day-spring from on high arose, 
I wandered through a night without a star ; 
My feet had gone astray 
Upon a lonely way : 
Each guide I followed failed me in my ne-d ; 
Each staff I leaned oil proved a broken reed. 

Then, when in mine extremity to Thee 
I turned. Thy pity did prevent my prayer; 
From that entangling maze it set me free, 

And quickly loosed my heavy load of care ; 



164 ALL 12^ CHIilST. 



Gave me the lofty scope 

Of a heaven-centred hope, 
And led me on with Thee, a gentle Guide, 
Thither, where pure immortal joys abide. 

Thou art the great completion of my soul, 
The blest fulfilment of its deepest need ; 
When self-surrendered to Thy mild control, 
It enters into liberty indeed ; 
Thy love, a genial law, 
Its every aim doth draw 
Within its holy range, and sweetly lure 
Its longings toward the beautiful and pure. 

Thy presence is the never-failing spring 

Of life and comfort in each darker hour ; 
And, through thy grace benignly ministering, 
Grief wields a secret, purifying power. 
'Tis sweet, O Lord ! to know 
Thy kindredness with woe ; 
Sweeter to walk with Thee on ways apart 
Than with the world, where heart is shut to heart 

For Thee eternity reserves her hymn ; 

For Thee earth has her prayers, and heaven her 
vows; 
Thy saints adore Thee, and the seraphim. 

Under thy glory, stoop their starry brows. 



^^ HIMSELF HATH DO^E ITT 1G5 



Oh ! may that liglit divine 
On me still clearer shine — 
A power, an inspiration from above, 
Lifting me higher to Thy perfect love 1 



''HIMSELF HATH DONE IT V 

'' yXlMSELF hath done it" all! Oh! how 
I 1 those words 

Should hush to silence every murmuring thought 1 
Himself hath done it — He who loves me best, 

He who my soul with His own blood hath bought. 

« Himself hath done it !" Can it then be aught 
Than full of wisdom, full of tenderest love ? 

Not one unneeded soi-row will He send, 

To teach this wandering heart no more to rove 

" Himself hath done it !" Yes, although severe 
May seem the stroke, and bitter be the cu^ 

'Tis His own hand that holds it, and I know 
Hell give me grace to drink it meekly up. 

" Himself hath done it !" Oh ! no arm but His 
Could e'er sustain beneath earth's dreary lot ; 

But while I know He's doing all things well, 
M}' heart His loving-kindness questions not. 



166 ''HIMSELF HATH DONE ITT 



*' Himself hath done it !" He who's searched me 
through, 

Sees how I cleave to earth's ensnarhig tics ; 
And so He breaks each reed on which my soul 

Too much for happiness and joy relies. 

" Himself hath done it !" He would have me see 
AThat broken cisterns human friends mast prove ; 

That I may turn and quench my burning thirst 
At His own fount of ever-livincj love. 

" Himself hath done it !" Then I fain would say, 
" Thy will in all things evermore be done ;" 

E'en though that will remove whom best I love, 
While Jesus, lives I cannot be alone. 

" Himself hath done it !" Precious, precious words, 
" Himself," my Father, Saviour, Brother, Friend; 

Whose faithfulness no variation knows ; 

Who, having loved me, loves me to the end. 

And when, in His eternal presence blest, 
I at His feet my crown immortal cast, 
I'll gladly own, with all His ransomed saints, 



LIVING WATERS, 167 



I 



LIVING WATERS. 

ft 
"N some wild Eastern legend the story lias been 

told, 
Of a fall and wondrous fountain, that flowed in 

time* of old ; 
Cold and crystalline its waters, brightly glancing 

in the ray 
Of the summer moon at midnight, or the sun at 

height of day. 



And a good angel, resting there, once in a favored 

hour 
Infused into the limpid depths a strange mysterious 

power ; 
A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, 
Where but some drops were scattf :ed on the dry 

and barren plain. 



So the traveller might journey, not now in fear 

and haste. 
Far through the mountain-desert, far o'er the 

gandj-^ waste. 



J 68 LIVING WATERS. 

If but he sought this fountain first, and from it8 

wondrous store 
Tlie secret of unfailing springs along ^vitli him he 

bore. 

Wild and fanciful the legend — }'et may not mean- 
ings high, 

Visions of better things to coiue, within itssh-adow 
lie? 

Type of a better fountain, to mortals now un- 
sealed, 

The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord re- 
vealed ? 

Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who 

finds them there 
All through the wilderness of life the livino- stream 

may bear ; 
And blessings follow in his steps, until where'er he 

;'oes, 
The moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the 

rose. 

Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come to this fount- 
ain side ! 
Drink freely of its waters, drink, and be satisfied ! 



LIVING WATERS. 169 



Yet linger not, but hasten on, and bear to all 

around 
Glad tidings of the love, and peace, and mercy 

thou hast found ! 

To Afrio's pathless deserts, to Greenland's frozen 
shore — 

Where din of mighty cities sounds, or savage mon- 
sters roar — 

Wherever man may wander with his heritage of 
woe. 

To tell of brighter things above, go, brothers, 
gladly go ! 

Then, as of old in vision seen before the prophet's 

eyes. 
Broader and deeper on its course the stream of 

life shall rise ; 
And everywhere, as on it flows, shall carry light 

and love. 
Peace and good-will to man on earth, glory to 

God above ! 



170 ABIDE WITH US. 



ABIDE WITH US. 

THE tender light is fading Avliere 
We pause and linger still, 
And, through the dim and saddened air, 
AYe feel the evening chill. 

Long hast Thou journeyed with us, Lord, 

Ere we Thy face did know; 
Oh ! still Thy fellowsiiip afford, 

While dark the shadows grow. 

For passed is many a beauteous field, 

Beside our morning road ; 
And many a fount to us is sealed 

That once so freshly flowed. 

The splendor of the noontide lies 

On other paths than ours ; 
The dews that lave yon fragrant skies 

Will not revive our flowers. 

It is not now as in the glow 

Of life's impassioned heat. 
When to the heart there seemed to flow 

All that of earth was sweet. 



ABIDE WITH US. lYl 



Something has facied — something died^ 

Without us and within ; 
We more than ever need a guide ; 

Blinded and weak with sin. 

The weight is heavy that we bear, 
Our strength more feeble grows ; 

Weary with toil and pain and care, 
AVe long for sweet repose. 

Stay with us, gracious Saviour, stay, 
While friends and hopes depart ! 

Fainting, on Thee we wish to lay 
The burden of our heart. 



Abide with us, dear Lord ! remain 
Our Life, our Truth, our Way ! 

So shall our loss bo turned to gain- 
Night dawn to endless day. 



172 THE BETTER LIFE. 



THE BETTER LIFE. 
'All the way by which the Lord thy God led thee.' 

WHEN we reach a quiet dwelling 
On the strong eternal hills, 
And our praise to Him is swelling, 

AV'ho the vast creation fills : 
Wlien the paths of prayer and duty 

And affliction all are trod, 
And we wake and see the beauty 
Of our Saviour and our God ; 

With the light of resurrection, 

When our changed bodies glow, 
And we gain the full perfection 

Of the bliss begun below ; 
When the life that flesh obscureth 

In each radiant form shall shine, 
And the joy that aye endureth 

Flashes forth in beams divine : 



While we wave the palms of glory 
Through the long eternal yeai-s, 

Shall we e'er forget the story 
Of our mortal gi'iefs and fears ? 



THE BETTER LIFE. l73 



Shall wc e'er forget the sadness 
And the clouds that hung so dim, 

When our hearts are filled with gladness 
And our tears are dried by Him ? 

Shall the memory be banished 

Of His kindness and His care, 
AVhen the wants and woes are vanished, 

Which He loved to soothe and share — 
All the way by which He brought us, 

All the grievings which He bore, 
All the patient love He taught us. 

Shall we think of them no more? 

Yes ! we surely shall remember 

How He quickened us from death : 
How He fanned the dying ember 

With His Spirit's glowing breath. 
We shall read the tender meaning 

Of the sorrows and alarms 
As we trod the desert, leaning 

On His everlasting arms. 

And His rest will be the dearer 
When we think of weary ways, 

And His light will seem the clearer 
As we muse on cloudy days. 



174 PJIAY FOB WHOM THOU LOVEST. 

Oh ! 'twill be a glorious morrow 
To a dark and stormy day ; 

We shall recollect our sorrow 
As the streams that pass away. 



PRAY FOR WHOM THOU LOVEST. 

Pray for wbom thou lovest; thou wilt never have any com* 
fort of hia friendship for whom thou doat not pray. 

YES, pray for whom thou lovest ; thou mayst 
vainly, idly seek 
The fervid words of tenderness by feeble words to 

speak ; 
Go kneel before thy Father's throne, and meekly, 

humbly there 
Ask blessing for the loved one in the silent hour 
of pra}'er. 

Yes, pray for whom thou lovest ; if uncounted 

wealth were thine — 
The treasures of the boundless deep, the riches of 

the mine — 
Thou could'st not to thy cherished friends a gift 

so dear impart, 
As the earnest benediction of a deeply loving 

heart. 



DRAWING WATER. 175 



Seek not tlie worldlin'^'s friendship, it shall droop 
and wave ere long 

In the cold and heartless glitter of tlie pleasure- 
loving throng ; 

But seek the friend who when thy prayei for him 
shall murmured be, 

Breathes forth in faithful symi)athy a fervent 
prayer for thee. 

And should thy llowery path of life become a path 
of pain, 

The friendship formed in bonds like these thy 
spirit shall sustain ; 

Years may not chill, nor change invade, nor pov- 
erty impair. 

The love that gi-ew and flourished at the holy time 
of prayer. 



DRAWING WATER. 

I HAD drank with lip unsated 
Where the founts of pleasure burst J 
I had hewn out broken cisterns. 

And they mocked my spirit's thirst. 

And I said. Life is a desert, 
Hot and measureless and dry ; 



176 DRAWING WATER. 



And God will not give me water, 
Though I pray and faint and die ! 

Spoke there then a friend and brother, 
" Rise and roll the stone away ! 

There are founts of life upspringing 
In thy pathway every day." 

Then I said my heart was sinful — 
Very sinful was my speech; 

All the wells of God's salvation 
Are too deep for me to reach. 

And he answered : " Rise and labor ! 

Doubt and idleness is death ; 
Shape thou out a goodly vessel 

With the strong hands of thy faith I" 

So T wTought and shaped the vessel, 
Then knelt lowly, humbly there ; 

And I drew up living water, 

With the golden chain of prayer. 



A TRUE DREAM. V\*l 



A TRUE DREAM. 

I DREAMT we danced in careless glee, 
With hearts and footsteps light and free, 
That one so dearly loved and I, 
As in the childish days gone by 

For ever. 

I felt her arms around me fold, 
I heard her soft laugh as of old ; 
Her eyes with smiles were brimming o'er, 
Eyes we may meet on earth no more 
For ever. 

Then there came mingling with my dreams 
A sense perplexed of loss and change — ■ 
An echo dim of time and tears ; 
Until I said : " Hoav long it seems 

Since thus we danced ! Is it not strange < 
Do you not feel the weight of years ? 
Or dread life's evening shadows cold ? 
Or mourn to think we must grow old ?" 
Wondering, she paused a little while, 
Then answered, with a radiant smile : 

" No, never ! '* 



178 A TRUE DREAM. 

Wondering as if to her I told 

The customs of some foreign land 

Or spoke a tongue she knew of old, 
But could no longer understand. 

Till o'er her face that sunshine broke, 

And with that radiant smile she spoke 
That " Never.^' 

But not until the dream had fled 
I knew the sense of what she said ; 
Young Avith immortal truth and love. 
Child in the Father's house above 
For ever. 

We echo ba^k thy Avords again ; 
They smite us with no grief or pain ; 
We journey not towards the night, 
But to the breaking of the light 
Together. 

.Our life is no poor cisterned store 
The lavish years are draining low ; 

But living streams that, welling o'er. 
Fresh from the Living Fountain flow 
For ever. 



« O Z OBD ! THO U KKO WEST. " 179 



"0 LORD! THOU KNOWESTr 

THOU knowest, Lord, the weariness and sor- 
row 
Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest : 
Caj^cs of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow, 

Blessings implored, and sins to be confessed, 
I come beibre Thee at Thy gracious word, 
And lay them at Thy feet — Thou knowest. Lord. 

Thou knowest all the past ; how long and blindly 
On the dark mountains the lost wanderer 
straA^ed ; 
How the good Shepherd followed, and how kindly 

He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid, 
And healed the bleeding wounds, and soothed the 

pain, 
And brought back life, and hope, and strength 
again. 

Thou knowest all the present : each temptation, 
Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear ; 

All to myself assigned of tribulation, 

Or to beloved ones, than self more dear ! 

All pensive memories, as I journey on. 

Longings for vanished smiles, and voices gone ! 



180 ''OLOED! THOU KNOWEST:' 



Thou knowest all the future : gleams of gladness, 
By stormy clouds too quickly ovei'cast ; 

Hours of sv/eet fellowship, and parting sadness 
And the dark river to be crossed at last: 

Oh ! what could confidence and hope afford 

To tread that path, but this — lliou hiowest , Lord ! 

Thou knowest, not alone as God, all-knowing ; 

As man, our mortal Aveakness thou hast proved ; 
On earth, with purest sympathies o'erflowing, 

O Saviour ! Thou hast wept, and Thou hast 
loved ! 
And Love and Sorrow still to Thee may come, 
And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home. 

Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying. 
And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy feet. 

On everlasting strength my weakness staying, 
Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete J 

Then rising and refreshed, I leave Thy throne, 

And follow on to know as I am known 1 



MINISTRY. 181 



MINI ST R Y. 

' The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to 
minister." 

OINCE service is tlie highest lot, 
fO And all are in one Body bound, 
In all the world the place is not 

Which may not with this bliss be crowned. 

The sufferer on the bed of pain 
Need not be laid aside from this ; 

But for each kindness gives again 
" This joy of doing kindnesses." 

nie poorest may enrich this feast, 

Not one lives only to receive ; 
But renders through the hands of Christ 

Richer returns than man can give. 

The little child, in trustful glee, 

With love and gladness briumung o'er, 

Many a cup of ministry 

May for the weary veteran pour. 

The lonely glory of a throne 

May yet this lowly joy ])reserve ; 



182 MimSTRY. 



Love may make that a stepping-stone, 
And raise " I reign " into " I serve." 

This, by the ministries of prayer, 

The lonehest life with blessings crowds, 

Can consecrate each petty care. 
Make angels' ladders out of clouds. 

Nor serve we only when we gird 
Our hearts for special ministry ; 

That creature best has ministered 
Which is what it was meant to be. 

Birds by being glad their Maker bless ; 

By simply shining, sun and star ; 
And we, whose law is love, serve less 

By what we do than what we are. 

Since service is the highest lot 
And angels know no higher bliss, 

Then with what good her cup is fraught 
Who was created but for this 1 



IT IS WELL. 183 



IT IS WELL. 

SO they said, who saw the wonders 
Of Messiah's power and love ; 
So they sing, who see His glory 
In the Father s house above : 
Ever reading, in each record 
Of the strangely varied past, 
« All was well which God appointed, 
All has wrought for good at last." 

And on earth we hear the echoes 

Of that chorus in the sky ; 
Through the day of toil or weeping, 

Faith can raise a glad reply. 
It is well, O saints departed ! 

Well with you, for ever blest. 
Well with us, who journey forward 

To your glory and your rest ! 

Times are changing, days are flying, 

Years are quickly past and gone, 
While the wildly mingled murnun- 

Of life's busy hum goes on ; 
Sounds of tuumlt, sounds of triumph, 

Marriage chimes anl passing-bell; 
Yet through all one key-note sounding, 

Angels' watchword : " It is well" 



184 IT IS WELL. 



We may hear it, through the rushing 

Of the midnight tempest's wave ; 
We may hear it, through the weeping 

Eound the newly covered grave ; 
In the dreary house of mourning, 

In the darkened room of pain. 
If we listen meekly, rightly, 

We may catch that soothing strain. 

For Thine arm thou hast not shortened, 

Neither turned away thine ear, 
O Saviour ! ever ready 

The afflicted's prayer to hear ! 
Show us light, still surely resting 

Over aU Thy darkest ways ; 
Give us faith, still surely trusting 

Through the sad and evil days. 

And thus, while years are fleeting, 

Though our joys are with them gone, 
In Thy changeless love rejoicing 

We shall journey calmly on ; 
Till at last, all sorrow over, 

Each our tale of grace shall tell, 
In the heavenly chorus joining : 

" Lord, thou hast done all things well ! " 



THE CROSS 185 



1. 

THE CROSS. 

♦• Now there stood by the Cross of Jesus His mothe:." 
ry^HE strongest light casts deepest shade, 

.JL The dearest love makes dreariest loss, 
And she His birth so blessed had made 
Stood by Him dying on the cross. 

Yet since not gi'ief but joy shall last, 
The day and not the night abide, 

And all time's shadows, earthward cast. 
Are lights upon the " other side ;" 

Throuo-h what long bliss that shall not fall, 
That darkest hour shall brighten on ! * 

Better than any angel's " Hail ! " 
The memory of " Behold thy Son ! " 

Blessed in thy lowly heart to store 

The homage paid at Bethlehem ; 
But far more blessed evermore, 

Thus to have shared the taunts and shame. 

Thus with thy pierced heart to have stood 
']\Iid mocking crowds and owned Him thiue, 

True through a world's ingratitude, 
And owned in death by lips Divine. 



18G THE CROWW. 



n. 

THE CROWN. 

r TIHOU slialt bo crowned, O mother blest ! 
_1_ Our hearts behohl thee crowned e'en now 
1'iie crown of motherhood, earth's best, 
O'ershadowirig thy maiden brow. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! iSlore fragrant bays 

Then ever poet's brows entwine. 
For thine immortal hymn of praise. 

First Singer of the Church, are thine. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! All earth and heaven 

Thy coronation pomp shall see ; 
The Hand by which thy crown is given 

Shall be no stranger's hand to thee. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! but not a queen ; 

A' better triumph ends thy strife : 
Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean, 

The victor s crown of fadeless life. 

Thou shalt be crowned ! but not alone — 
No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down ; 

Crowned with the myriads round His throne, 
And castino; at His feet thv crown. 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. IS*/ 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

ALL in weakness, all in sorrow, 
O my God ! I come once more, 
Jjifting up the sad petition 

Thou hast often heard before. 
In the former days of darkness, 
In the time of need of yore. 

For a present help in trouble 
Thou hast never ceased to be. 

Since at first a weeping sinner 
Fell before Thee trustingly ; 

And Tliy voice is ever sounding:. 
" O ye weary ! come to Me." 

Lord, Thou knowest all the weakness 
Of the creatures Thou hast made, 

For with mortal imperfection 

Thou didst once Thy glory sh de ; 

Thou hast loved and Thou hast soi-rowtxl, 
In the veil of flesh arrayed. 

Thus I fear not to approach Thee 
With my sorrow and my care ; 

Hear my mourning supplication, 
Cast not out my humble prayer I 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 



Lay not on a o-reater burden 

Then Thy feeble child can bear ! 

Earth has lost Its best attractions, 
All the brightest stars are gone — 

All is clouded now and cheerless, 
Where so long a glory shone : 

Where I walked with loved companions, 
I must wander now alone. 

All is dark on the horizon, 
Clouds returning after rain ; 

Faith is languid, Hope is weary. 
And the questions rise again : 
" Doth the promise fail for ever ? 

Hast thou made all men in vain ? " 

O my God ! rebuke the tempter, 

Let not unbelief prevail ! 
Pray for me, Thy feeble servant. 

That my weak faith may not fail, 
Nor m}; Hope let go her anchor 

When the Avaves and storms assail I 

All these passing changing shadyws. 
All these brief, bright joys below — • 

Let me grasp them not so closely. 
Nor desire nor prize them so ! 



PRAYER OUT OF TRE DEPTHS. 189 



Nor endure this bitter anguish 

When Thou bid'st me let them go I 

Redeemer ! shall one perish 
Who has looked to Thee for aid ? 

Let me see Thee, let me hear Thee, 
Through the gloomy midnight shade ; 

Let me hear Thy voice of comfort : 
" It is I ; be not afraid ! " 

For when feeling Thou art near me, 

All my loneliness is o'er. 
And the tempter's dark suggestions 

Can oppress my soul no more ; 

1 shall dread the path no longer 

Where Thyself hast gone before. 

And the lights of earth all fading, 

I can gaze on tearlessly. 
When the glory that excelleth, 

When the light of Ufe I see. 
Whom besides, in earth or heaven, 

Should my heart desire, but Thee ? 



190 SALOME. 



SAL ME. 

SHE knew not what for them she sought, 
At His right hand and left to sit ! 
How great the glory, passing thought ; 
How rough the path that led to it. 

They knew not what of Him they asked I 
But He their deeper sense distilled. 

Gently the selfish wish unmasked, 
But all the prayer of love fulfilled. 

Pride sought to lift herself on high, 
And heard but of the bitter cup ; 

Love would but to her Lord be nigh, 
And won her measure full — heaped up 

With vision of His glory blessed ; 

Stood on the mountain by His side ; 
Leaned, at the Supper, on Hjs breast ; 

Stood close beneath Him when He died. 

One brother shared His cup of woe — 
The second of His martyr-band : 

One, by His glory smitten low. 

Rose at the touch of His rio-ht hand. 



MEMORIES. 1 9 ] 



Tlins, when by earth's cross lights perplexed, 
We crave the thing that should not be, 

God, reading right our erring text, 

Gives what we would ask, could we see. 



MEMORIES 

WHEN fall the evening shadows, long and 
deep, across the hill ; 
When all the air is fragrance, and all the breezea 
still ; 

When the summer sun seems pausing above the 

mountain's brow. 
As if he left reluctantly a scene so lovely now ; 

Then I linger on the pathway, and I fondly gaze, 

and long. 
As if reading some old story those deep purple 

clouds among ; 

Then Memory approaches, holding up her magic 
glass, 

P.ointing to familiar figures, which across the sur- 
face pass. 



192 MEMORIES. 



And often do I question, as I view that phantom 

train, 
Whether most with joy or sadness I behold them 

thus again. 

They are there, those scenes of beauty, where 
life's brightest hours have fled. 

And I haste, with dear companions, the old paths 
again to tread ; 

But, suddenly dissolving, all the loveliness is flown, 
And I find a thorny wilderness, where I must 
walk alone. 

Thou art there, so loved and honored, as in each 

former hour. 
When we read thine eye's deep meanmg, when 

we heard thy words of power ; 

AVTien our souls, as willing captives, have sought 

tx) follow thine. 
Tracing the eternal footsteps of Might and Lo^'e 

Divine. 

But o'er that cherished image falls a veil of clouds 

and gloom, 
And beside a bier I tremble, or I weep above a 

tomb. 



MEMORIES. 193 



And ever will the question come, O Memory! 

again, 
AVhether in thy magic mirror there is most of 

bhss or pain ? 

Would I not wish the brightness were for ever hid 
from view, 

If but those hours of darkness could be all for- 
gotten too ? 

Then, weary and desponding, my spirit seeks to 

rise 
Away from earthly conflicts, from mortal smiles 

or sighs. 

I do not think the blessed ones with Jesus have 

forgot 
The changing joys and sorrows which have marked 

their earthly lot ; 

But now, on JNIemory's record their eyes can 

calmly dwell ; 
They can see, what here they trusted — God hath 

done all things well ; 

And vain regrets and longings are as old things 
passed away; 

No shadows dim the sunshine of that bright eter- 
nal day ! 



194 THE WIDOW OF NAIN. 



THE WIDOW OF NAIN. 

THY miracles are no state splendo.*8 
Whose pomps Thy daily works excel ; 
The rock which breaks the stream, but renders 
Its constant cm^rent audible. 

The power which startles us in thunders 

Works ever silently in light ; 
And mightier than these special wondei's, 

The wonders daily in our sight. 

Rents in the veils Tliy Avorks that fold, 
They let the inner light shine through ; 

The rent is new, the light is old, 
Eternal, never* ever new. 

And, therefore, when Thy touch arresta 
The bearers of that bier at Naiu, 

Warm on unnumbered hearts it rests, 
Though yet their dead live not again.- 

And Thy compassionate " Weep not ! " 
On this our tearful earth once heard, 

For every age with comfort fraught. 
Tells how Thy heart is ever stirred. 



THE WIDOW OF XAIK 195 



Nature repeats the tale each year, 

She feels Thy touch through countless springs, 
And, rising from her winteiy bier, 

Throws off her grave-clothes, lives and sings 

And when Thy touch through earth shall thrill 
This bier whereon our race is laid, 

And, for the first time standing still, 
The long procession of the dead 

At Thy " Arise ! " shall wake from clay, 

Young, deathless, freed from every stain ; 
When Thy " Weep not ! " shall wipe away 
*Tears that shall never come again ; 

When the strong chains of death are burst, 
And lips long dumb begin to speak. 

What name wiU each then utter first ? 
What music shall that silence break ? 



196 PATHWAYS OF THE HOLY LAJSTD. 



PATHWAYS OF THE HOLY LAND. 

rr'^HE pathways of Thy land are little changed 
JL Since Thou wert there ; 

The busy workl through other ways has ranged, 
And left these bare. 

The rocky path still climbs the glowing steep 

Of OUvet, 
Though rains of two millenniums wear it deep, 

Men tread it yet. 

Still to the gardens o'er the brook it leads, ^ 

Quiet and low ; 
Before his sheep the shepherd on it treads, 

His voice they know. 

The wild fig throws broad shadows o'er it still, 

As once o'er Thee ; 
Peasants go home at evening up that hill 

To Bethany. 

And, as when gazing Thou didst weep o'er them. 

From height to height 
The white roofs of discrowned eTerusalem 

Burst on our sight. 



PATRWAYS OF THE HOLY LANDS. 197 



These ways were strewed with garmentaonce, and 
pahn, 
Which we tread thus ; 
Here, through Thy triumph, on Thou passedst, 
cahii, 
On to Thy cross. 

The waves have washed fresh sands upon the shore 

Of Galilee; 
But, cliiselled in the hill-sides, evermore 

Thy paths we see. 

Man has not changed them in that slumbering 
land, 

Nor time effaced ; 
Where Thy feet trod to bless, we still may stand ; 

All can be traced. 



Yet we have traces of Thy footsteps far 

Truer than these ; 
Where'er the poor, and tried, and suffering are, 

Thy steps faith sees. 



Nor with fond sad regrets Thy steps we trace 
Thou art not dead ! 



198 FOR THE NEW YEAR. 



Our path is onward, till we see Thy face, 
And hear Thy tread. 

And now, wherever meets Thy lowliest band 

In praise and prayer, 
There is Thy presence, there Thy Holy Land, 

Thou, Thou, art there I 



FOR THE NEW YEAR. 

ANOTHER year ! another year 
Has borne its record to the skies 
Another year ! another year. 

Untried, unproved, before us lies ; 
We hail with smiles its dawning ray- 
How shall we meet its final day ? 



Another year, another year ! 

Its squandered hours will ne'er return ; 
Oh ! many a heart must quail with fear, 

O'er memory's blotted page to turn. 
No record from that leaf will fade, 
Not one erasure may be made. 



FOE THE NEW YEAR. 199 



Another year, another year ! 

How many a grief has marked its flight ! 
Some whom we love, no more are here — 

Translated to the reahns of light. 
Ah ! none can bless the coming year 
Like those no more to greet us here. 

Another year, another year ! 

Oh ! many a blessing, too, was given, 
Our lives to deck, our hearts to cheer,' 

And antedate the joys of heaven ; 
But they, too, slumber in the past. 
Where joys and griefs must sink at last. 

Another year, another year ! 

Gaze we no longer on the past, 
Nor let us shrink, with faithless fear, 

From the dark shade the future casts. 
The past, the future — what are they 
To those whose lives may end to-day ? 

Another year, another year ! 

Perchance the last of life below. 
Who, ere its close. Death's call may hear 

None but the Lord of life can know. 
Oh ! to be found, whene'er that day 
May come, prepared to pass away. 



200 TEE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN HEAVEK 



Another year, another year ! 

Help us earth's thorny path to tread ; 
So may each moment bring us near 

To Thee, ere yet our hves are fled. 
Saviour ! we yiekl ourselves to Thee, 
For time and for eternity. 



THE PERPETUITY OF JOY m HE A VEN 

HERE brief Is the sighing, 
And brief is the crying, 
For brief is the life ! 
The life there is endless, 
The joy there is endless, 
And ended the strife. 

What joys are in heaven ? 
To -whom are they given ? 

Ah ! Avhat ? and to whom ? 
Tlie stars to the earth-born, 
" Best robes " to the sin-worn. 

The crown for the doom I 



O country the fairest ! 
Our country tlie dearest, 



THE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN HEAVEK 201 



We press toward thee ! 
O Sion the golden ! 
Our eyes now are holden, 

Thy light till we see : 

Thy crystalline ocean, 
Unvexed by commotion, 

Thy fountain of life ; 
Thy deep peace unspoken, 
Pure, sinless, unbroken — 

Thy peace beyond strife : 

Thy meek saints all glorious, 
Thy martyrs victorious. 

Who suffer no more ; 
Thy halls full of singing. 
Thy hymns ever ringing 

Along Thy safe shore. 

Like the lily for whiteness, 
Like the jewel for brightness, 

Thy vestments, O Bride I 
The Lamb ever with thee. 
The Bridegroom is with thee— 

With thee to abide ! 

We know not, we know not, 
All human words show not, 



202 THBOUGH THE FLOOD 02^ FOOT. 



The joys we may reach ; 
The mansions preparing, 
The jo^'s for our sharing, 

The welcome for each. 

O Sion the golden ! 
My eyes still are holden, 

Thy light till I see ; 
And deep in thy glory, 
Unveiled then before me, 

My King, look on thee ! 



THROUGH THE FLOOD ON ^OOT. 

THE sun had sunk in the West 
For a little while, 
And the clouds which gathered to see him die 
Had caught his dying smile. 

We sat in the door of our Tent, 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

Where misty shadows lay. 

Tlie great and terrible Land 
Of wilderness and drought, 



•rmtOUGE THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 203 



Lay in the shadows behind us, 
For the Lord had brought us out. 

The great and terrible River, 
Though shrouded still from view, 

Lay in the shadows before us, 

But the Lord would fear us through. 

In the stillness and the starlight, 

In sight of the Blessed Land, 
We thought of the bygone Desert-life, 

And the burning, blinding sand. 

Many a dreary sunset, 

Many a dreary dawn. 
We had watched upon those desert hills 

As we pressed slowly on. 

Yet sweet had been the silent dews 
Which from God's presence fell, 

And the still hours of resting 
By Palm-tree and by Well, 

Till we pitched our Tent at last, 

The Desert done, 
Where we saw the hills of the Holy Land 

Gleam in oui sinkino- sun. 



204 THROUGH THE FLOOD 0^ FOOT. 



And we sat in the door of our Tent, 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

Where misty shadows lay : 

We were talking about the King, 

And our elder Brother, 
As we were used often to speak 

One to another. 

The Lord standing quietly by. 

In the shadows dim, 
Smiling perhaps, in the dark, to hear 

Our sweet, sweet talk of Him. 

" I think in a little while," 

I said at length, 
" We shall see His face in the city 

Of everlasting strength ; 

" And sit down under the shadow 
Of His smile. 
With great delight and thanksgiving, 
To rest awhile." 

**But the River — the awful River 1 
In the dying light," 



TEROUOH TEE FLOOD OK FOOT. 205 



And even as he spoke, the murmur 
Of a River rose on the night ! 

And One came up through the meadow, 

Where the mists lay dim, 
Till Fie stood by my friend in the star-light, 

And spake to him : 

" I have come to call thee Home," 

Said our veiled Guest ; 
" The terrible journey of life is done, 

I will take thee into Rest. 

" Arise ! thou shalt come to the Palace, 
To rest thee for ever ;" 
And He pointed across the dark meadow, 
And down to the River. 

And my friend rose up in the shadows. 
And turned to me — 
" Be of good cheer," I said faintly, 
" For He calleth thee." 

For -I knew by His loving voice, 

His kingly word, 
The veiled Guest in the star-light dim 

Was Christ, the Lord ! 



206 THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 



So we three went slowly down 

To the River-side, 
Till we stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

I could hear that the Lord was speaking 

Deep words of grace, 
I could see their blessed reflection 

On my friend's pale face. 

The strong and desolate tide 

Was hurrying wildly past. 
As he turned to take my hand once more, 

And say Farewell, at last. 

Farewell — I cannot fear, 

Oh ! seest thou His grace ?" 
And even as he spoke, he turned 

Again to the Master's Face. 

So they two went closer down 

To the E,iver-side, 
And stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

But when the feet of the Lord 
Were come to the waters dim, 

They rose to stand, on either hand, 
And left a path for Him ; 



TKROUan THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 207 



So they two passed over swiftly 

Toward the Goal, 
But the wistful, longing gaze 

Of the passing soul 

Grew only more rapt and joyful 
As he clasped the Master's hand , 

I think, or ever he was aware 

They were come to the Holy Land. 

Now I sit alone in the door of ray Tent 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

Where misty shadows play. 

The great and terrible Land 

Of wilderness and drought, 
Lies in the shadows behind me, 

For the Lord hath brought me out ; 

The great and terrible River 

I stood that night to view. 
Lies in the shadows before me. 

But the Lord will bear me through. 



208 THE LONG GOOD-NIGHT. 



THE LONG GOOD-NIGHT, 

I JOURNEY forth rejoicing, 
From this dark vale of tears, 
To heavenly joy and freedom, 

From earthly bonds and fears : 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-nio-ht, till then I 



Go to thy quiet resting, 

Poor tenement of clay ! 
From all thy pain and weakness 

I gladly haste away ; 
But still in faith confiding 

To find thee yet again. 
All glorious and immortal. 

Good-ni(>;ht, till then I 



Why thus so sadly weeping, 
Beloved ones of my heart ? 

The Lord is good and gracious, 
Though now H^e liids us part. 



THE LON-Q GOODNIGHT. 209 



Oft have we met in gladness, 

And we shall meet again, 
All sorrow left behind us. 

Good-night, till then I 

I go to see His glory, 

Whom we have loved below : 
I go, the blessed angels. 

The holy saints to know. 
Our lovely ones departed^- 

I go to find again, 
And wait for you to join us. 

Good-night, till then 

1 hear the Saviour calling — 
The joyful hour has come : 

The angel-guards are ready 
To guide me to our home, 

Where Christ our Lord shall gather 
All His redeemed again, 

His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-night, till then ! 



210 FOOTSTEPS OV TtlS OTHER SIDE. 



FOOTSTEPS ON THE OTHER SIDE, 

0< ITTING in my humble doorway, 
KZ) Gazing out into the night, 
Listening to the stormy tumult 

With a kind of sad delight — 
Wait I for the loved who comes not, 

One whose step I long to hear ; 
One who, though he lingers from me, 

Still is dearest of the dear. 
Soft ! he comes — now heart, be quick — 

Leaping in triumphant pride ! 
Oh ! it is a stranger footstep, 

Gone by on the other side. 

All the night seems filled with weeping, 

Winds are wailing mournfully ; 
And the rain-tears together 

Journey to the restless sea. 
I can fancy, sea, your murmur, 

As they with your waters flow, 
Like the griefs of single beings, 

Making up a nation's woe ! 

Branches, bid your guests be silent ; 

Hush a moment, fretful rain ; 
Breeze, stop sighing — let me listen, 

God grant not again in vain I 



GONE HOME. 211 



In my cheek the blood is rosy, 
Like the blushes of a bride. 

Joy ! Alas ! a stranger footstep 
Goes on by the other side. 

Ah ! how many wait for ever 

For the steps that do not come ! 
Wait until the pitying angels 

Bear them to a peaceful home ! 
Many in the still of midnight 

In the streets have lain and died, 
While the sound of human footsteps 

Went by on the other side. 



GONE HOME. 

/^ ONE home ! Gone home ! She lingera 
\jr here no longer 

A restless pilgrim, walking painfully. 
With homesick longing, daily growing stronger, 

And yearning visions of the joys to be. 

Gone home ! Gone home ! Her earnest, active 
spirit, 

Her very playfulness, her heart of love ! 
The heavenly mansion now she doth inherit, 

Which Christ made ready ere she went above. 



212 FUNERAL HYMN. 



Gone home ! Gone home ! The door through 
which she vanished 

Closed with a jar, and left us here alone. 
We stand without, in tears, forlorn and banished, 

Longing to follow where one loved has gone. 

Gone home Gone home ! Oh ! shall we ever 
reach her, 

See her again, and know her for our own ? 
Will she con luct us to the heavenly Teacher, 

And bow beside us, low before His throne ? 

Gone home ! Gone home ! O human-hearted 
Saviour ! 

Give us a bahn to soothe our heavy woe ; 
And if Thou wilt, in tender, pitying favor, 

Hasten the time when we may rise and go ! 



FUNERAL HYMN. 

COME forth ! come on, with solemn song 1 
The road is short, the rest is long. 
The Lord brought here. He calls away ; 

Make no delay, 
This home was for a passing day. 



FUNERAL HYMK 213 



Here in an Inn a stranger dwelt, 
Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door 1 

The task is o'er, 
The sojourner returns no more. 

Now of a lasting home possessed, 
He goes to seek a deeper rest. 
Good-night ! the day was sultry here 

In toil and fear ; 
Good-night ! the night is cool and clear 

Chime on, ye bells ! again begin, 
And ring the Sabbath morning in. 
The laborer's week-day work is done, 

The rest begun. 
Which Christ hath for His people won. 



Now open to us gates of peace ! 
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease ; 
Ye quiet slumberers, make room 

Jn your still home 
For the new stranger who has come I 



How many graves around us lie ! 
How many homes are in tlie sky! 



214 WE ARE THE LORD'S. 



Yes, for each saint doth Christ prepare 

A i^lace with care. 
Thy home is waiting, brother, there. 

Jesus, Thou reignest, Lord, alone ; 
Thou wilt return and claim Thine own. 
Come quickly, Lord ! return again ! 

Amen ! Amen ! 
Thine seal us ever, now and then ! 



WE ARE THE LORD'S. 

WE are the Lord's. His, earthly life and 
spirit! 
We are the Lord's, who once for all men died ! 
We are the Lord's, and shall all things inherit! 
AVe are the Lord's, who wins us all beside ! 

We are the Lord's ! So in most holy living, 
Glad let us, body, soul, be His alone ; 

And heart and mouth, and act join, witness giving 
That it is surely true : we are His own ! 

We are the Loril's ! So in the dark vale gleaming, 
One star dispels our fear, and keeping ward, 



EUTIIANASY 215 



* 



Doth light our way with sweet unchangeful beam- 
ing : 
It is the precious Word. We're thine, O Lord ! 

We are the Lord's ! So will He on the morrow 
Watch our last pang, when other help rewards 

No pain, and Death brings not a touch of sorrow. 
This Word's for ever true : we are the Lord's. 



EUTHAN'ASY. 

WE need no change of sphere 
To view the heavenly sights, or hear 
The songs which angels sing. The hand 

Which gently pressed the sightless orbs ere 

while. 
Giving them light, a world of beauty, and the 
friendly smile, 
Can cause our eyes to see the better land. 

We need no wings 

To soar aloft to realms of higher things 
But only feet which walk the paths of peace, 

Guided by Him whose voice 

Greets every ear, makes every heart rejoice, 
Saying, Arise, and walk where sorrows cease. 



216 ETITHANASY. 



Visiting spirits are near ; 

They are not wholly silent, but we can not hear 
Nor understand their speech. 

Our Saviour caught His Father's word, 

And men of old, dreaming and walking, heard 
The breathings of a world we can not reach. 



They mounted to the skies, 

And read deep mysteries. 
While yet on earth, the}' placed a ladder there 

Like Jacob's, that each round should lead, 

By prayer outspoken, in a word or deed, 
The soul to heights of clearer, purer air. 

They saw no messenger of gloom 

In him whom we call Death, nor met their doom 
As prisoner his sentence ; but naturally, as bud 
unfolds to flower. 

As child to man, so man to angel — 

They recognizing death the glad evangel, 
Leading to higher scenes of life and power. 



THE ELE VENTH HO UB. 217 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 

FAINT and worn and aged 
One stands knocking at a gate 
Though no light shines in the casement, 

Knocking though so late. 
It has struck eleven 
In the courts of heaven, 

Yet he still doth knock and wait. 



While no answer cometh 

From the heavenly hill, 
Blessed angels wonder 

At his earnest will. 
Hope and fear but quicken 
While the shadows thicken : 

He is knocking, knocking stilL 

Grim the gate unopened 
Stands with bar and lock : 

Yet within the "unseen Porter 
Hearkens to the knock. 

Doing and undoing. 

Faint and yet pursuing, 

This man's feet arc on the Rock. 



218 THE ELE YENTR HO UB. 



With a cry unceasing, 

Knocketh, prayeth he : 
" Lord, have mercy on me 

When I cry to Thee." 
With a knock unceasing, 
And a cry increasing : 

" O my Lord ! remember me.** 

Still the Porter standeth, 

Love-constrained He standeth near, 
W hile the cry increaseth 

Of that love and fear : 
" Jesus, look upon me — 
Christ, hast Thou foregone me ? — 

If I must, I perish here." 



Faint the cry and call : 
Is he lost indeed for ever, 

Shut without the wall ? 
]\lighty Arms surround him, 
Arms that sought and found him, 

Held, withheld, and bore through all. 

O celestial mansion ! 
Open wide the door : 



''RBmGIN-G OUB SHEAVES WITH VS." 219 



Crown and rohes of whiteness, 

Stone inscribed before, 
Flocking angels bear them ; 
Stretch thy hand and wear thera ; 

Sit thou down for evermore. 



''BRmaiNG OUR SHEAVES WITH ITSr 

rr^^HE time for toil is past, and night has come, 

1 The last and saddest of the harvest e^^es ; 
Worn out with labor long and wearisome. 
Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
Each laden with his sheaves. 

Last of the laborers, Tliy feet I gain, 

Lord of the harvest ! and my spirit grieves 
That T am burdened, not so much with grain 
As with a heaviness of heart and brain. 
Master, behold my sheaves ! 

Few, light, and worthless — yet their trifling weight 

Through all my frame a weary aching leaves ; 
For long I struggled with my hapless fate. 
And staid and toiled till it was dark and late — 
Yet these are all my sheaves ! 



220 ''BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITE US.^' 



Full well I know I have more tares than wheat — ■ 
Brambles and flowers, dry stalks, and withered 
leaves ; 

Wherefore I blush and weep, as at Thy feet 

I kiieel down reverently, and repeat, 
" Master, behold my sheaves !" 

I know these blossoms, clustering heavily 

With evening dew upon their folded leaves, 
Can claim no value nor utility — 
Therefore shall fragrancy and beauty be 
The glory of my sheaves. 

So do I gather strength and hope anew ; 

For well I know thy patient love perceives 
Not what I did, but what I strove to do — 
And though the full, ripe ears be sadly few, 

Thou wilt accept my sheaves. 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



PAGR 

All is Known to Thee, 20 

A Little While, 45 

Alone, yet not Alone, 51 

Anchor within the Veil, the, 109 

All is Light, 123 

Asleep on Guard, 132 

All in Christ, 163 

Abide with Us, 170 

Border Lauds, the, IS 

Bridegroom's Dove, the, 35 

Bridges 12G 

Burial of Moses, the, 138 

Better Life, the, 172 

Bringing our Sheaves with Us, 219 

Changed Cross, the, 5 

Call, the, 82 

Cross and Crown, the, 86 

Coming, 116 

Christian and His Echo, the, 144 

Comfort by the Way, 147 

Christmas Hymn, a, 153 

Communion with God, 158 

Cross, the, 185 

Crown, the, '. 1S6 

Delectable Mountains, the, 107 

Distractions in Prayer, 113 

Drawing Water, 175 

Evening Prayer, 62 

Even Me, 87 

Eleventh Hour, the, , 217 



222 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



PAGE 

Euthanasy, 215 

Faith's Repose, 16 

Father, take my Hand, 123 

For the New Year, 193 

Footsteps on the Other Side, 210 

Funeral Hymn, 2 2 

G one Home, 211 

God our Strength, 15 

God, my Exceeding Joy, 19 

God's Support and Guidance, 41 

God's Anvil, 85 

Grief was sent for thy Good, 96 

God's Ways, Ill 

Gracious Answer, the, 130 

Holy Tears, 13 

Hinder me Not, 47 

Heaven, 58 

Hour of Prayer, the, 134 

Hymn of Trust, 187 

Himself hath Done It, 165 

I Am, 43 

I Cling to Thee, 50 

In Heaven, 72 

It is I ; Be not Afi-aid, 75 

It is Well, 186 

Lost Treasures, 25 

Leave Me not Now, 105 

Longings,. 124 

Light in Darkness, 157 

Living Waters, 167 

Long Good-Night, tlie, 203 

Le=s and More, 146 

Meeting Place, the 9 

My Times are in Thy llnnd, 16 

Mary's Choice, 32 

My Lambs, 78 

My Guest 114 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 223 



PAGE 

Ministry,.. ....181 

Memories, 191 

Near Home, 33 

Near Jesus, 66 

Natm-e and Faith, 76 

Now, 141 

Need of Jesus, tiie, . 142 

Oil ! for the Happy Days Gone By, 22 

One by One, 31 

Oh ! to be Ready, 34 

Oh ! my Saviour Crucified, 89 

Onward, 95 

Lord ! Thou Knowest 179 

Pilgrim, the, 11 

Pilgrim's Wants, the, 56 

Pilgrim' of Earth, 69 

Peace of God, the, 89 

Peace, 91. 

Prayer for Strength, 93 

Pray for whom thou Lovest, 174 

Perpetuity of Joy in Heaven, 200 

Pathways of the Holy Land, 196 

Prayer out of the Depths 187 

Quiet Mind, a, 121 

Return thee to thy Rest, 65 

Retrospect, 143 

Sunday, 27 

School of Suffering, 52 

Supplication, ' 61 

Scenes on Jordan's Strand, 97 

Sufferer cheered, the, 161 

Salome, i;)0 

There is Liglit Beyond, 99 

Thy Will Be Done, 135 

Thy Will Be Done, 102 

They shall be Mine, 13 



224 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



PAoa 

Tempest-Tossed, the, 146 

Time for Prayer, the, 156 

True Dream, a, 177 

Through the Flood on Foot, 202 

Voice from Heaven, a, 59 

Verdict of Death, the, 15) 

Wandering Heart, the, 63 

Wholly Resigned, 15 

Who is my Brother? 68 

What is this that He Saith ? 71 

Widow of Nain, the, 194 

Way, the Truth, and the Life, the, 154 

We are the Lord's, 214 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



Afler long days of storms and showers, 27 

Alas! for the wildly wandering heart, 63 

Amid the shadows and the fears, 109 

All in weakness, all in sorrow, 187 

Another year, another year, 198 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping, 45 

Beyond the stars that shine in golden glory, 99 

By Nebo's lonely mountain, 138 

Breezes of spring, all earth to life awaking, 157 

Christ leads us through no darker rooms, 15 

Come forth ! come on with solemn song, 212 

Early my spirit turned, 39 

Father, I know that all my life, 16 

Father, into Thy loving hands, 18 

Forsake me not, my God, 41 

Father of mercy ! at the close of day, 62 

Father ! before Thy footstool kneeling 93 

Four little words, no more, 101 

Father, beneath Thy sheltering wing, 106 

Faint, and worn, and aged, 217 

Gone home ! gone home ! She lingers here no longer 211 

Hinder me not ! the path is long and. weary, 47 

How few who from their youthful day, Ill 

How doth Death speak of our beloved, 156 

Himself hath done it all, 165 

Here brief is the sighing, 20« 

It was a time of sadness, and my heart, 5 

I want that adorning divine, 66 

1 shine in the light of God, 59 

I want to live near Jesus, 66 



226 INDEX TO FIRST LINSS. 



I !ovre<l them so, .... 73 

I 8ee them far away, 107 

I cannot pray ; yet, Lord, Thou knowest, 113 

I have a wonderful Guest, 114 

It may be in the evening, 116 

I luive a treasure which I prize 121 

1 have a bridge within my heart, 126 

I need Thee, precious Jesus, 142 

I journey through a desert drear and wild, 147 

In human form enthroned, 153 

In thee, my iieart, Jesus ! finds repose, 168 

In some wild Eastern legend the story has been told, 1G7 

I had drank with lips unsated, 1T5 

I dreamt we danced in careless glee, In 

I journey forth rejoicing, 203 

Jesus, engrave it on my heart, o2 

Let us be patient, God has taken from us, 25 

Lord, hear my prayer, 01 

Lord, I bear of showers of blessing, 87 

Life's mystery — deep, restless as the ocean, 91 

Leave me not now while still the shade is creeping, 105 

Lord, I am come along with Thee, 15S 

Man, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay, 35 

My God, whose gracious pity I may claim, 20 

My Dove ! The Bridegroom speaks, 35 

Must I my brother keep, 6S 

Must Jesus bear the cross alone S6 

My God, is any hour so sweet, 134 

Oh ! for the happy days gone by, 2 J 

One by one the sands are flowing, 31 

One sweetly solemn thought, 83 

Oh ! to be ready when death shall come, 34 

holy Saviour ! Friend unseen, 50 

Oh ! heaven is nearer than morW.s think, 58 

Loving One! Bounteous One ! 148 

Qh 1 for the peace which floweth as a river, 71 

my Saviour ci ucifled, 81) 



l^DEX TO FIRST LINES. 227 



shame ! we're sometimes fain to say, 132 

O Love Divine ! that stooped to share, 137 

Pilgrim of earth, who art journeying to heaven, 69 

Pain's furnace-heat within me quivers, 85 

Return, return thee to thy only rest, Gc 

Rise ! for the day is passing, 141 

Still onward through this land of foes, 11 

Saviour, beneath Thy yoke, 5'2 

Silence filled the courts of heaven, 72 

Some there are who seem exempted, 90 

Say! shall I take the thorn away? 161 

Since service is the highest lot, ISl 

So they said who saw the wonders, 1S3 

She knew not what for them she sought, 190 

Sitting in my humble doorway, 210 

Thou bidd'st us call, 43 

Tossed with rough winds and faint with fear, 75 

The night was dark ; behold, the shade was deeper, S2 

Traveller, faint not on the road, 95 

There came a little child with sunny hair, 97 

They shall be mine, 103 

The way is dark, my Father, 1'28 

The way is dark, my child, 130 

True faith, producing love to God and man, 144 

Two Prayers, dear Lord, in One, 146 

Thou art the Way, 154 

The tender light is fading where, 170 

Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness an4 sorrow, 179 

The strongest light casts deepest shade, 1S5 

Thou shalt be crowned, mother blest ! 186 

Thy miracles are no state splendors 194 

The pathways of Thy land are little changed, 196 

The sun had sunk in the west, 202 

Tlie time for toil is past, 219 

We are the Lord's. His, earthly life and spirit, 214 

We need no change of sphere, 215 



228 INDEX TO FIJtIST LIIHSS. 



Where the faded flower shall freshen, S 

When no kind earthly friend is near, 51 

We wept — 'twas Nature wept, but Faith, T6 

We ask for peace, Lord ! 89 

What though storm-clouds gather round me, 128 

AVhen shall I be at rest ? 124- 

We see not, know not, all our way, 185 

When is the time for prayer ? 156 

When we reach a quiet dwelling, 172 

AVhen fall the evening shadows long and deep, 191 

Yts, thou may'st weep, IB 

Yes, pray for whom tliou loveet, 174 



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